


The Fallen

by ThePurpleChronicler



Series: American Horror Story Apocalypse: Alternate Timeline/Ending [2]
Category: American Horror Story: Apocalypse
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2019-08-28 15:25:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 52,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16725987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePurpleChronicler/pseuds/ThePurpleChronicler
Summary: The Apocalypse has come. Michael Langdon has risen to an apex power. Mallory is sent through time as a final hope to end Michael before he discovers his powers but is too late. With no other options left, Mallory uses her powers as future Supreme to form a revolution moulded from the world of Magic, Man and Spirit to stop the Apocalypse before it begins.





	1. The Collapse

The outside world is desolate, dead, and silent, anything remotely close to alive is diseased or cannibalistic, or both. Violence and desperation have become a scourge, millions killed in the initial nuclear blasts, billions dying from the fallout that followed, and all brought upon by a singularly evil, a sinister evil, a being that was once an innocent child, but followed his call to the darkness, becoming the apex of apex predators. The sound of boots against wooden tile echoes throughout Outpost Three, the ground and walls slick with the blood of Witches; decorated by the bloody, mutilated corpses of Queenie and Coco, the cleaved remains of Misty Day, and the decapitated body of Madison. Amid the corpses, above the blood and violence, stands Michael Langdon, the reason of the apocalypse and the reckoning of the world, strutting along the halls of the Outpost without a single care in the world, a broadsword clamped in the grip of his hand. With each step, Michael finds himself closer and closer to his enemies' last resort, the last reinforced place in the entire Outpost; headmaster's bathroom. The final conflict for the survival of mankind is about to commence.

"Miss Cordelia! It appears you and your brood of whores have run out of options! You may have dispatched my precious Miss Mead, but I assure you, your girls suffered through a much longer sequence of glorious pain, except for your Hollywood whore, she was lucky enough to have her head removed from her shoulders!"  
Michael attempts to turn the doorknob but is burnt viciously at its touch, leaving a small burn mark on his palm, only for it to heal within a few seconds. "Your spells are hopeless, Miss Cordelia, even a Supreme's magic cannot stop me now. You've only delayed the inevitable." Michael stops and lays his palm out flat before slowly driving the tip of the broadsword's blade straight through his hand, only stopping when he's palm has reached its hilt. He sheathes the blade from his hand and lets his blood soak the blade. "BY THE POWER BESTOWED TO ME BY MY FATHER! ALLOW ME TO CUT THROUGH THIS DOOR AND SOAK THE EARTH WITH THE BLOOD OF OUR ENEMIES!" That's when he begins plunging the blade into the door, the barrier spell drastically slowing the blade's touch to the door. "I'M COMING FOR YOU!"

"I don't think that door's going to hold," Kyle says in a panicked voice, his right hand grasped onto a decorated wood axe, a relic of Miss Robichaux's Academy; the Axeman's Axe. "I'd say we have a few minutes before he finds himself through the door, so we best get to it."  
Myrtle and Zoe assist Mallory into the headmaster's tub, the water is hot to the touch, causing the young witch to shriek in pain, but that doesn't stop her.  
"Easy, little one," Myrtle shushes, holding Mallory's hand as she begins to lay down into the water. "You can do this, you know you can."  
"I believe in you," Cordelia adds, grasping onto her face and kissing her forehead. "If anyone can do this, it's you, Mallory."  
"What if I can't do this?" Mallory questions, tears rolling down her face. "What if I fail like last time?"  
"You won't fail, I know you won't!" Zoe intervenes, staring straight into Mallory's eyes as she speaks her next words. "You are the next Supreme, Mallory, you understand that? You have power beyond any Supreme before you, so if anybody can do this, if anybody can do what has to be done, it's you. We love you and are willing to die for you, Mallory, and when you reach the other side, only you will know what has been sacrificed, and the lives that will be lost if Michael isn't stopped. You know the words, Mallory; Tempus Infinituum."

The blood-soaked blade suddenly pierces through the large wooden door before catching ablaze, slowly burning away the rest of the door like it's made of paper, revealing the viciously powerful Michael; skin pale, eyes darkened, dark veins appearing on his face, hair looking like a wildfire. "You cannot hide from me, Cordelia." That's when his eyes meet Mallory's, noticing that she's laying in the tub. He knows exactly what that means and what she's about to do, and he must stop her. "NO!"  
Michael throws the blade forward in a combination of satanic rage and telekinesis, the velocity of the blade blowing out its flame as it heads straight towards the only person capable of stopping him now. Kyle thrusts forward to catch onto the hilt of the blade, but the soaking blood causes it to slip from his grasp, continuing its voyage. Before the blade can creep any closer to Mallory, Myrtle Snow transmutates in front of the blade, watching as it pierces through her own chest, killing her and stopping the blade in its track.

"MYRTLE!" Cordelia screams, watching helplessly as Myrtle body hits the ground, the broadsword sticking from her back. Cordelia's screams cause the entire room to shake violently as she sends a wave of pyrokinesis towards Michael, simultaneously engulfing his entire body in flames and pushing him back down the hall. "DIE!"  
"MALLORY! IT'S TIME!" Zoe commands as she pulls a knife from underneath her cloak. Kyle pulls the broadsword from Myrtle's back, now holding both the Axeman's Axe and the blade in each hand. "WE'LL GIVE YOU AS MUCH TIME AS YOU NEED, BUT PLEASE, SAVE OUR COVEN! SAVE THE WORLD!"  
"Zoe?" Mallory sighs at Zoe, a tear rolling down her face.  
"You can do this," Zoe says before she and Kyle find themselves into the hall, Cordelia following closely behind.  
"You're strong enough, Mallory, all you need to do is believe in yourself," Cordelia says, giving her a final kiss on the cheek. "You will do this, and I will ensure it."  
"Oh shit, oh shit," Mallory says, her breath shuddering as she clenches onto the piece of Michael's hair, steam rising from the heat of her skin. "T- Tempus Infinituum. Tempus Infinituum! Tempus Infinituum! Tempus Infinituum!"

Michael stands at the end of the hall, still completely engulfed in the flames of Cordelia's pyrokinesis, his horrific smile still visible through the firey source of death. He should be long dead, yet he still stands, his clothing burning away while his flesh and hair are untouched. He slowly lays his hands out before clenching them viciously, extinguishing most of the flames, leaving his clothes slowly burning as he finds himself back down the hallway. Sharp, black coloured claws begin to retract from his fingernails, blood dripping from his human nails in the process. "Mr and Mrs Spencer, I have longed for this moment."  
"You may destroy us, Michael, but you will not destroy Mallory, she is too powerful for even the likes of you!" Zoe hisses, holding her blade close.  
"She'll die like the rest of you, Witches," Michael growls in a dark voice. That's when his eyes meet the knife in her hands. "I hope you know how to use that."  
Zoe leaps towards Michael, jamming the blade into Michael's chest, but he's faster, gripping onto her neck and lifting her with one of his clawed hands like she weighs nothing. He stares at her for a moment and growls before throwing Zoe through a nearby wall with zero effort, watching as her boyfriend's face goes pale and crazed at the sight of her leaning against a wall, not moving.  
"I WILL KILL YOU!" Kyle screams at the top of his lungs before swinging both the axe and sword swiftly and with ease.  
Michael mirrors the speed of Kyle's swift attacks, allowing him to quickly yank the knife from his own chest as he moves like a blur. Michael grips onto the broadsword with telekinesis and throws it into the room Zoe lies in, cutting into the wall and barely missing Zoe's head, something that catches the attention of Kyle.

Michael launches himself into Kyle, pushing him against the wall with one hand placed on his throat, his other hand yanking away his axe before tossing it aside. Kyle uses every ounce of his strength to fight against the pressure on his throat, but his strength is nothing against the power of his enemy, Michael is far too powerful now.  
"What's the matter, Mr Spencer? Were you hoping this encounter would end like our last one? I couldn't die then, and I can't die now," Michael chuckles, kissing Kyle on the cheek, taunting him before gripping tighter, this time with his claws. "But you can!"  
"Zoe, I love you," Kyle sighs as Michael yanks back, ripping out his throat and causing blood to gush all over and hall, as well as his killer. As he's showered in blood, Michael grips onto Kyle's head and twists viciously, causing his head to completely tear off his shoulders as his body hits the floor.  
"No resurrections for you, Mr Spencer," Michael chuckles, his eyes meeting Cordelia's as he slowly picks up Kyle's axe. "As you see, the last of your allies have been dispatched of, Miss Cordelia, no more hiding behind your brood. It's time to face me, just me and you, then after you're destroyed I'll get to Mallory. Don't worry, I'll make her death a painless one because I like Mallory, she'll get one mighty swing of this axe, and it'll all be over."  
"You will get to watch me die, but you will not be satisfied," Cordelia hisses, a smirk on her face. "Satan has one son, but my girls are Legion, Motherfucker!"  
Suddenly a blade erupts from Michael's chest, spilling his blood onto the floor as his vision blurs. Zoe stands behind him, feeling Michael and the blade suddenly become weightless, Cordelia clearly grasping onto him using telekinesis before pulling him towards her. They impact, Michael and Cordelia, become one as the blade pierces her chest as well as his, however, she is able to fall victim to her selfless act, her life draining away in a rush of blood. Mallory feels her Supreme status rush through her body and her mind, cleansing her of any doubt and ultimately empowering her as the hot water begins to bubble and turn solid black. The last thing she sees before disappearing into the murky water; the widened eyes of Michael Langdon, the realisation that he's lost, but he's chanting something, and it sends chills down Mallory's spine.

* * *

 For Mallory, the only Witch to perform Tempus Infinituum, moving through the force of time feels like having the ability to swim upstream. She feels every creature's life force from the past that she's desperate to find to the future she's desperate to run from, yet she's searching for a singular life force, the life force of her enemy, and she can feel that she's running out of time.  
"Where are you, Michael?" Mallory says to herself, clenching onto the strain of his hair. That's when she begins hearing voices.

A perfect young boy, destined for greatest.  
Do you have to kill every single living thing that you come across?!  
Not even I could create something as monstrous and evil as you!  
Nothing is natural about Michael. Not his birth, not his appearance, nothing.  
This one- broke me- beyond recovery.  
I never could have helped you, it was foolish to true.  
You're Mallory, right? Hello, my name is Michael.  
I WILL KILL EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU!  
HOW COULD YOU DEFEAT ME?! I'VE ALREADY WON!

Mallory begins to panic, realising that she's moving through Michael's past at a pace that's too quick for her mind to concentrate on, any more pressure and her mind will shatter into a million pieces. She attempts to reach out for Michael's most vulnerable moment, the moment where he felt the weakest, a time she can take advantage of and kill him before he recognises his power. However, she's either missed that moment, or the moment does not exist at all, and the feeling of failure splits her in half, spilling her confidence in her found power all over the place. She's failed. Her first action as the new Supreme has failed. Michael has won. Now he will wipe the world of all life and there's nothing she or the Witches of the past can do about it. Wait. The past. She knows almost everything there is to know about the future and Michael's position as the Supreme Ruler of the Earth, and she can use this knowledge to destroy Michael no matter where he is, as long as she isn't too late. Mallory lets go of the hair strain, reaching out to her own past, that she can do with zero restraint, finding the moment when she first met Cordelia; a moment where she can change many things, save many lives, including Queenie's. So many things she must do to stop Michael.

Prepare. She must prepare Miss Robichaux's for the future battle for the Earth, explain everything to Cordelia and her council using a spell presenting her memories; that will allow her to explain that a war is approaching.  
Resurrections. Myrtle Snow must be brought back from the dead but this time she can assist Cordelia. She can save Queenie's life by stopping her from entering the Hotel Cortez, but for the others, they must wait and allow Michael to bring Madison and Misty Day back from the dead.  
Alliances. They must wait for the Warlocks, John Henry Moore and Behold Chablis, to become allies to the Witches, but if there's a way for that alliance to surface quicker, then they will take that opportunity. Contacting Papa Legba to trade Marie Leveau's soul for Dinah Stevens has crossed her mind, but she'll have to speak to Cordelia about that. Michael is already powerful by the time he resurrects Misty, Madison and completes the Seven Wonders, so they will need more allies, perhaps, yes, perhaps them. Mallory reaches out to her past self, her soul and consciousness quickly transferring to the physical body, right as Cordelia and herself stop in front of a painting of Myrtle Snow.  
"This was my advisor, Myrtle Snow, the woman who shaped me to the person I am today."  
"Yes, and we're going to bring her back," Mallory cuts in, feeling Cordelia's eyes piercing into her. "We have to, we need everyone we can get for what lies ahead of us."  
"Why would we bring her back? What's coming, Mallory, I'm so confused?" Cordelia questions, seemingly looking straight into Mallory's soul, viewing every fibre of seriousness imaginable in a singular being. "What are you talking about, Mallory?"  
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you, so, I will show you."


	2. The Future's Delineation

Mallory sits patiently and collectively in Cordelia's office with Queenie and Zoe's hand placed on one of her arms, and both of Cordelia's hands on the other. At first touch, the three young women flinched at the ferocity of her power, they all swore it was almost like a burning sensation, sending shivers down three spines at once. Mallory slowly glances at Kyle, who stands at the door of the office in silence, a look of concern and a mirthless smile glued to his face, it felt good for Mallory to see Kyle alive and well again.. The three witches' closed eyes twitch and twirl in focus, chests slowly rising and collapsing before they hands clamp tightly, causing her to wince in discomfort. The three witches let go simultaneously, their breathing suddenly becoming uneased and violent, hands shaking at the years of clouded visions, primarily hers but also a few of Michael's too, all of which shared in only a few moments; it was a dangerous procedure and Mallory wasn't able to show every major future event, but it was something that had to be done, it was the only way they would believe her, otherwise, she would sound beyond crazy. Mallory gives them a moment to catch their breath and recollect themselves, and after a couple minutes, Zoe is the first to speak, followed by Queenie.  
"Holy shit, we- we know who the next Supreme is," Zoe gasps, falling to her knees and breathing heavily. Kyle quickly moves from the door to assist each of the Witches, taking his time with Zoe.  
"Zoe, what's happening? What did you see?" Kyle questions, looking at Queenie and Cordelia, who each give him a nod of assurance.  
"Madison. Misty. It- it can't be."  
"Madison? Misty? You saw them?" Kyle gasps, giving Mallory a confused look. "Where did you seem them?"  
"In the visions, and they were both alive."  
"That- it just- cannot be real, right?" Queenie asks Mallory, who gives her a mirthless smile. "And this is the Coven's future? The world's future?! My future?! I die if I go to the Hotel Cortez?!"  
"If you go to the Hotel Cortez, you will not come back out, not until Michael shows up years after your death, and, he frees you. Essentially my warning skipped that part of your story, Queenie, and not only for your sake, but so he won't get a chance to use your resurrection to get closer to initiating the Seven Wonders. Everything, and I mean everything that I managed to show you will be our future if he isn't stopped, with the exception of a few things," Mallory pauses, regret in her eyes, perhaps something more than regret. "I was sent to the future to find a moment where Michael was most vulnerable and then I was supposed to kill him, ending his true lust for power and blood before it begins. But, I couldn't find the window, I missed my chance, at least for now. I'm not quite sure where he would be at this point of his life, but if he is in fact with the Warlocks, then all we need to do is wait, and he will come to us."

"The Warlocks, although tenacious, would surely look into a potential student before enrolling him, right?" Zoe asks, eyes locked with Cordelia. "Aren't they supposed to keep the council informed on their enrolled students?"  
"We haven't heard much from the Warlocks in over a year, perhaps they've turned a blind eye and are no longer enrolling?" Kyle questions the possibility.  
"I doubt that shit," Queenie hisses,  
"I highly doubt that, Ariel Augustus and Baldwin Pennypacker will not stop until they find a way to overthrow us, it's in their nature to revolt against their superiors. In speaking of Michael's enrolment, by law they must take extreme measures and not rush the process, it is prohibited to enrol a student without taking the proper measures, Michael is a prime example of a rushed enrolment, and if they have rushed enrolment, then they will have to suffer the consequences. Mallory, Supreme to Supreme I must ask, the visions of Madison and Misty Day, were they-"  
"They were real too."  
Mallory's words are followed by a mist of silence, Queenie's eyes are locked on Zoe, while Zoe's eyes are locked on Cordelia, who stares aimlessly out the window of her office. They all know what Misty Day meant to Cordelia, and for a matter of fact, what Madison meant to Zoe, even after everything she did and didn't do. When they discovered that Kyle had murdered Madison, it took Zoe nearly half a way to understand the why's and trust him again; even now Kyle finds himself haunted by the memory of what he did to Madison in a fit of rage. He was almost burnt at the stake for his crimes, but it was Cordelia love for not just Zoe, who was practically her daughter alongside Queenie, but Kyle too, one of the most loyal people she has ever met, that halted the execution entirely. What made it worse, was seeing how much Madison had changed, how much she was dedicating herself to the Coven and to her fellow witches for once. As for Misty, Cordelia has missed her greatly and had to hold off her tears of joy knowing that Misty was only a few days, a few weeks, maybe a few months away from life once again. Cordelia was unsure what she would do or say when she inevitably returns to the land of living, but would worry about that when the time comes, as much as she misses her, she must focus on the task at hand. For the Coven.

"How is that possible? There's no traditional, Voodoo, Light or Dark Magic capable of bringing someone back from Hell, Papa Legba has made sure of that. Trust me, I have tried to bring them back myself. Yet you've mentioned that this Michael boy was able to free Queenie's spirit from the Hotel Cortez? How is that possible?" Cordelia questions, looking at the witch. "What about you? Are you able to do what he can? Do you think you could bring them back yourself? Or must we wait for him to bring them back?"  
"I'm- not quite sure, although it's unlikely, which is why we must wait for Michael, I would have it any other way if I could," Mallory sighs, clearly exhausted. "I'm not sure if you were able to see it, but I was able to resurrect the Warlock, John Henry Moore, from a pile of ashes. But Michael, his connection to Hell allows him to take and resurrect souls that have been dead for years. I'm no Anti-Christ, but if I was to be in Michael's presence while he was descending into Hell, maybe I could follow him down there, simultaneously making my powers known and causing the Warlocks question Michael's potential as Alpha Warlock."  
"But when they discover Michael's prowess, it's likely they will want the council and the council only to go to California, meetings like that do not accept third party members, with the exception of the Coven Personal Guards. If we are to set this 'trap' and reveal Mallory's power, they would need to come here rather than us go there," Kyle explains, obliviously showing off his recently upgraded intelligence, besides, with his role as CPG and Butler for the Coven, Kyle needs to be at peak human or in his case, superhuman condition. "If they request the presence of the Council, what is the right course of action?"  
"If they request our presence, counter their request and order their presence in New Orleans," Cordelia orders, Kyle nods to his Supreme in acceptance.  
"But please ensure that they bring their most formidable students, Kyle, requesting the attention of the Warlock council and one student may come across as suspicious, no?" Zoe adds, winking at her boyfriend, who pretends to not to see it.  
"Just make sure that they are prepared to get their smug little smirks torn off their faces by girl-wonder here," Queenie finalises, getting a giggle from the exhausted Mallory. "We'll show those Warlock pricks whose boss."  
"It is settled then; myself and the Council will counter-request the Warlocks voyage to New Orleans to discuss their matters about Michael. We will decline their request for Michael to initiate the Seven Wonders, which will force him to bring back Misty and Madison in order to get our attention, we won't have a choice but to accept afterwards, but our Council will be whole again, and we will have our girls back. Michael will complete the Seven Wonders, but will be vulnerable nonetheless," Cordelia explains, giving Mallory the green light to add any important details they must know further.

"Michael is powerful and he is dangerous, willing to kill anyone that gets in his way of power, and he has a woman at his side, a human woman but someone who is just as dangerous if not more. Her name is Miss Meade, a former assassin and Satanist, which is how she come across Michael, and whoever Michael wants killed she does without a second thought, if Michael wants us dead, she will come after us. Two members of the Warlock Council, Behold Chablis and John Henry Moore are wary of Michael, and are not only great men, but our allies too, even if they don't know it yet; John Henry Moore is killed by Miss Meade and burned to ashes, while after I resurrect him, they are both later killed when Michael returns to Hawthorne. This is something we cannot let happen, these men must remain alive and our allies, while we can dispatch Augustus and Pennypacker when the time is right. We must ensure that entirety of the Warlock Council is here, afterwards we must keep a close eye on Moore and Chablis, to ensure that our alliance forms with them, as much as that may conflict with a future partner. Until they arrive are there a few things we must do. First of all, we must prepare all the girls and the Coven Personal Guards for anything and everything, we must teach, prepare and train them like war is approaching and they are the soldiers."  
"Some of the girls won't want to be treated like soldiers, this is a school after all, a place where they're supposed to feel safe," Zoe warns before thinking about the proposition.  
"The Personal Guards are designed primarily to defend the Coven, but why must the girls be included in the fight?" Kyle questions.  
"They must be prepared to defend themselves, because in the future, Michael and Miss Meade wipe out the entire Coven in a couple hours. The girls, the Personal Guards, everyone is killed in the firefight," Mallory explains, sighing heavily. "Second, the new Voodoo Queen, Dinah Stevens, betrays us and makes a deal with Michael for fame and money, we must deal with her before she gets the opportunity, but we must deal with her without killing her. My proposal is that we contact Papa Legba, and I will explain why when the time comes, but Queenie, I cannot stress enough, you mustn't kill her."  
"I will try not to," Queenie hisses, the thought of the Voodoo Queen betraying the entire Coven, and for wealth above her, makes her blood boil.  
"As for the third task, Cordelia, in order to make the task less dangerous, it will take the two of us."  
"What are we going to do?" Cordelia asks, looking up to Mallory like the girls would her and the council. Mallory has shown great courage to stand against their fateful future, extreme power of clear Supreme levels, loyalty to the Coven, and above all an untamed ferocity, a need to protect the Coven and destroy the Anti-Christ, so it is difficult for Cordelia not to look up to Mallory. After all, she will be the Coven's future Supreme.  
"We're going to resurrect Myrtle Snow."


	3. An Advisor's Return

The shower head of Mallory's bathroom engulfs her in clean, fresh, soothing hot water, washing away that harrowing feeling, the stench of the evil that followed her and Cordelia's mishaps, even though they had absolutely no choice, what's done is done and there's no going back. The sticky sweat from her body, her loose untidy hair and the dry blood from her nose, ears and now healed hand, flows down the drain as she watches, and the feeling is incredible. Mallory can't seem to remember the last time she felt so comfortable and so at peace, which is so inappropriate, there's still so much they have to do, so much violence and death is yet to come, but this time it will be somewhat different this time, this time, they have the upper hand; they know what's coming. The way the water moves down her bare back sends chills down her spine, giving her an uneasy feeling like a hand is moving slowly down her spinal column. She turns around yet there's nothing or nobody there, further evidence that the whole ordeal has taken just about everything out of her, she's paranoid, Michael has crept his way into her head, even if he doesn't know it yet, but he makes her skin crawl. She's in desperate need of sleep, there's no denying that; the memory sharing, Myrtle Snow's resurrection, and the fact that she's literally travelled through the forces of time itself have brought havoc on her physical and mental stability, but when she thinks about it, the trade was worth it.

* * *

 "Are you sure about this, Mallory?"  
"I'm not the one who has to be sure, you're the one who's done this before," Mallory teases, although she's secretly unsure, she wasn't exactly present for this part, nor has she ever tainted with dark magic, that was the job of the Voodoo Queens, not practicers of the traditional arts. "You seem unsure, Cordelia."  
"Myrtle Snow made me promise not to bring her back, told me that in order for the Coven to rise, the old Council had to fall, and that, Mallory, is the only reason I haven't brought her back already, because she made me promise, swear on the Coven. Does she- does she forgive me?"  
"She does more than forgive you, Miss Cordelia, she stands by your side and the side of the Coven, until the very end," Mallory reassures, lighting the final candle before placing it with the other candles that circle the tub. "Last time you did this alone, I wasn't around for this part, but now that I am, you doing this alone is something I cannot let happen, because I owe it to Miss Myrtle. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for her."  
Cordelia stands in silence for a long and uncomfortable ten seconds, as if she's second-guessing herself, but Mallory can't exactly blame her. In less than twenty-four hours, her entire world has been flipped upside down and then upright again, mixing her mind like a snow globe; to know that within her lifetime, the world will be destroyed, and worse, the Coven she's spent so much time falling for, will be destroyed alongside it. Most people wouldn't believe anything Mallory has said, and if she was to share her memories, her experiences with the weak-minded, it would send them mad, it's a lot to take in, but lucky for her and the Coven, Cordelia and her council are some of the strongest people not just in her eyes, but perhaps in the world.

"What is it like? Knowing the future that is come, knowing that the world is so close to utter destruction, while everyone else is completely clueless. It must have some abrogating aspects about it, alongside the assertive aspects?" Cordelia asks, caution present in her tone, like she's frightened of Mallory's power, something that stirs her, to say the least, but at this very point, Mallory knows more of Cordelia than Cordelia knows of her, so caution is fitting to the circumstance. "There are still questions, so many questions, that I have, even with all of the memories you shared with us."  
"Of course there are abrogations alongside the assertions, one of which is if I fail, I'll have to watch it occur all over again, watch the world turn into a realm of radiation and ash, however," Mallory pauses, standing directly beside Cordelia. "There are so many things I can change and prevent, ways I can ensure that we not only survive this but kill Michael too. Are you ready Miss Cordelia?"  
"As ready as I'll ever be," Cordelia says, gripping onto the blade in her hands. "When she emerges from the tub, there's a chance some hellfire will follow, so this may be some of the worst pain you'll ever feel, are you prepared to do this."  
"Some of the worst pain I've ever felt for the negotiating of one of the greatest Witches that has ever walked this Earth? I'm prepared to do this, Miss Cordelia, me and you, together."  
Cordelia smiles sweetly at the young woman and takes her hand, quickly and delicately drawing the blade across, slicing Mallory's hand before doing the same to her own. Their hands seize once more, channelling the power of two Supremes, before speaking the first words simultaneously.  
"Cinis est anima."

* * *

 After finally drying her hair out, Mallory shuts off the bathroom light and collapses onto her bed, feeling as if she can finally breathe. It's amazing how much Mallory remembers the simple things, like the comfort of her bed in the comfort of the room she shared with Coco, who she hasn't met yet. Only a couple weeks and she should arrive, and a week following that, Michael should be recognised by the Warlocks, yet if it wasn't for the fact that at this very point they have no idea where Michael is located, Michael would be dead already, murdered personally by Mallory herself. Her hatred for Michael is relentless, hazardous to say the least, a rage that won't be quenched until she sees his heart out of his chest. On a lighter note, Cordelia gave the entire Coven the green light to sleep in tomorrow, which Mallory will gleefully accept, but truthfully it's just Cordelia's way of getting herself some rest because, after a night like tonight, she certainly needs it. That's when the comfort of the bed starts sinking in, and her eyes begin to close, yet her mind remains entwined with tonight's events.

* * *

 "CINIS EST ANIMA, ORIRI EX IGNE, REVERTE AD ME, REVERTE AD ME!"  
The two women chant in a powerful form of sync as the water begins to boil fiercely, their cut hands brutally burning from the heat of the erupting hellfire as the force of the dark magic causing their nose and ears to bleed. The pain is exactly as Cordelia described, unlike anything Mallory has ever experienced in her life, getting stabbed in the gut, being at the edge of death, has nothing on what she's currently going through. She wants to pull her hand away, give in to the pain, and she knows that Cordelia can sense that because she's squeezing her other hand, showing her that she's not alone.  
"REVERTE AD ME! REVERTE AD ME!"  
The hellfire erupts upwards like a wall, shattering the room's glass windows as it sends Cordelia and Mallory into the ground at a force so powerful they could swear the floor cracked. The sound of furious knocking can be heard from the other side of Cordelia's bedroom door, Zoe's, Queenie's and Kyle's voices following the knocking, it appears even Kyle with all of his raw strength can't get the door open. The wall of hellfire stops rising but continues to burn unnaturally, with a dark shadow immerging in the flame, a tall and slender figure, with antlers, appendages and claws for hands.  
"You can have her soul, but know this, Supreme Witches, even if you had the combined power of a thousand Supreme Witches," the figure hisses, his voice sounding more like a serpent than a person. "Your power would still be nothing to that of my son. My forces, beasts from the darkest of places, are much closer than you think, and they will ensure his victory, and in the end, all of you will be nothing but ashes."  
"Leave this place!" Cordelia growls back at the figure, finding herself to her feet, standing in front of Mallory. "You are not welcome here!"  
"Don't be so certain."

The wall of hellfire surges back down into the depths of the tub, causing smog to send the smoke alarms off, yet standing in the tub, is an older woman with a dark red mane for hair, wearing a red dress, the dress that she wore when she was burnt at the stake, a second time. She appears dissociated at first, grunting weakly but she seems to come to quite swiftly, however, it's unknown as to if she knows where she is or why.  
"Cordelia?! What have you done?!" The older Witch screams, rage and hysteria equally present in her tone. "What am I doing here?! I gave you strict instructions not to bring me back!"  
"I know, Myrtle, but a great danger is coming for all of us, and I need your guidance," Cordelia cries out, falling into Myrtle Snow's arms, feeling weakened from the dark magical spell, just as Mallory, probably more so. "We need your guidance."  
Mallory watches silently as Myrtle Snow glances at her with curiosity, clearly unsure as to what to think of this Witch she's never seen before. "We brought you back not only for your guidance, Miss Myrtle Snow but because of the purity of your power, as well as your friendship and devotion to the Coven."  
"We don't know where to start in order to protect the girls and the Coven, not from the mortal danger that is coming for us," Cordelia sobs, falling to her knees. "I'm so sorry, Myrtle, I'm so sorry for bringing you back, but we need you more than ever, I need you more than ever. We all need to prepare the girls for the approaching war, all of us, the Council, me, you, and Mallory, who is our future Supreme and has seen what is to come."  
"Tempus Infinituum? The Supreme power?" Myrtle questions, glancing at the young woman once again.  
"I'm so sorry, Myrtle, please forgive me."  
"Don't be silly, my child, I forgive you," Myrtle says, embracing Cordelia as Mallory watches, who struggles to keep herself awake. "It appears all three of us need some soothing rest, but before we can arrange that, I believe I need to knowledgeable on the current situation. So, my dears, I am listening."  
The advisor has returned.


	4. An Alpha Rising

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just warning you guys... this Chapter is a bit jumpy... I don't need to rewrite the events of Michael's introduction and his tests as they were already shown in the show itself... so yeah.. jumpy. I'll be highlighting the before and after of those events... and some of Michael's private thoughts about his situation and his plans for world destruction. Thanks, enjoy :))

Michael sits silently in a long black car, a limousine, as that strange man, Ariel Augustus, had called it. Ariel had found him in a jail cell a few days after Michael's violent interrogation at the hands of that asshole Detective, yeah, it was violent for him. The force of his fist against his face was sharp, like a jagged rock, but it was somewhat pleasing, to say the least, quite pleasing indeed. What followed that pleasure? More pleasure; the sight of the Detective being thrown around the room like a ragdoll, his arms and legs bending into abnormal shapes at the pure force of his will, before causing his skull to combust and boil from the inside out. It was incredible, more so than the time he killed his Nanny and that mentally-disturbed Priest, unlike anything he's ever experienced, and the part that makes it all so much juicier, is that there's so much more to come, more death, more suffering, more fun. His time with Miss Meade and her brood had taught him a lot, more than he could ever learn at that ineffective Murder House, they taught him the source and the extent of his power above all, plus more, it was them who brought him closer to his Father, closer to the unholy greatness beyond the physical restraints of the world. They gave him the most invaluable thing in the world; a plan, the ultimate plan, a step by step tutorial to destroy the world, ingredients and all, everything fits into place like a perfect game of Tetris. Nothing will stop him now. It is a shame he had to get rid of them, with the exception of Miss Meade, his maternal figure; her brood knew too much, thought too much, believed they could control while she wanted to nurture, and in the end, it felt good to remove their faces.

Of course, Ariel and the Warlocks had discovered the footage of what he did to the Detective, just like they'd planned, but did that make them scared? It should have terrified them, but fear wasn't part of the plan, intrigue was, and intrigue is what followed, Ariel Augustus, that fool, couldn't help himself. Michael read as much as he could about Hawthrone School for Exceptional Young Men, as well as their council; Ariel Augustus, Baldwin Pennypacker, Behold Chablis and John Henry Moore, all extraordinary men by the sounds of things, but that matters not, they're simple pawns to Michael's cause, perhaps even corruptible if given the right service of power. Ariel is kind at first glance, but there's something about him that Michael has noticed, inner darkness, a dark aura within his soul, everyone has that part of themselves, remarkable people have the more striking, more reliable ones. The man clearly hates women, the Witches furthermore, and he's desperate for a so-called 'Alpha Warlock' to step into the spotlight and put the Witches in their places, to control and cull them whenever necessary. Hate is good, hate is useful, easy to manipulate, easy to carve into a masterful art piece, a hell of a lot easier to carve than tissue and bone, Michal has learnt. The man can be beneficial after all, that's if he seals his mouth and leaves the rest of the trip in silence, if not, his time will be cut short.

"Michael?" Ariel asks the young man, placing a hand on his shoulder, almost mistakingly shaking him awake. Michael is already awake, however, in his own wicked world, reminiscing about how he'll shape the current one, mould it into something new and fantastic; a world of his creation. How attractive it sounds.  
"Yes, Mr Augustus?" Michael asks, turning to face the older man, realising that the car had stopped. "Are we here?"  
"We are. If you'll follow me, please."  
Michael doesn't waste time, a dull trip with Ariel's incessant bickering has led to this moment, to see the centre he'll be lingering at while his plan rises into its natural place, the extent of time it will take is unknown and can mould at any point. Miss Meade wishes to stick to the plan, but Michael made no promises, not even to her, he'd rather go with the flow than being stuck with a dying disillusionment, that's worse than self-destruction. As for first impressions, the School is a gate and fence, guarded by unmistakenly the Warlock's Personal Guard, leading up to a swirl of architectural design, a confusing sight, to say the least, with the exception of the guards.  
"Where's the school?" Michael questions, pretty sure that Ariel is half-listening.  
"Whatever do you mean, dear Michael?"  
"The school?! You know, big building, you have the fences and the gate, but no damn building, so, I guess I'm wondering, where the fuck is the school?!" Michael asks in a vicious tone, his darker, more sinister and impatient side showing the older man. However, rather than becoming disturbed by the sound and sight of Michael slowly unhinging, the older man smirks uncontrollably, seemingly impressed.  
"If you'll follow me please, Mr Langdon."

Michael did what he was told, for now, he doesn't like getting told what to do, but playing the role of a grateful student has necessary sacrifices, he's got to play the part if he wishes to succeed. After following the older man towards the architectural design, he began to understand; the swirl isn't just there for presentation, it's a lead up to a slope, which leads up to stairs, which then leads up to a large metal door controlled by electronics.  
"A bunker?! Weird place to be running a school," Michael raises his eyebrows, unimpressed but smirking knowing that Ariel is giving him a look of disapproval.  
"Wait until you see inside, Mr Langdon, don't worry, we have plenty of candles."  
"I'm not afraid of the dark."  
"With power like yours, I don't believe you're scared of anything," Ariel agrees, unlocking the electronic gate.  
"Fear is distasteful to me, wrath and bitterness is much more promising, wouldn't you agree?"  
"It depends where the wrath and bitterness are aimed, dear Michael," Ariel agrees once more, watching as the gate opens wide, revealing absolute darkness, the candles inside barely lighting up the atmosphere. "It depends where the wrath and bitterness are aimed."  
"I speculate that thought converges on the Witches?"  
"And I speculate you know more than you let off, much, much more."  
"Touche," Michael chuckles, not hesitating to walk into the darkness, his natural habitat. "Feels just like home."

* * *

 His presence in Hawthrone could only have lasted so long before he seized the attention of the rest of Ariel's Council, it's no secret that John Henry Moore loathes him, however, Baldwin Pennypacker and Behold Chablis are more or less intrigued by his demeanour and immaculate power. Throughout the three weeks, Michael had surpassed his fellow Warlocks with every test, every spell, every conjuration, every task brought upon him by the Council; perfected and without flaw. He was unsure whether or not his fellow Warlocks esteemed or despised him, normally the idea would be insignificant, but Michael was unsure whether or not the academy played the game of rising and fall. In his free time, if he ever had any, he would normally find himself studying the end of the first-year test all Warlocks are required to perform, and in a spontaneous turn of events, after the three-week mark, Michael's test was pushed forward, no doubt by the hands of the Grand Chancellor. Four magical powers and abilities to perform, all flawless executed without breaking a single drop of sweat, and after it was revealed that the entire Council were only Level Threes, ignoring Michael's power had suddenly become an impossible assignment. Now, Michael sits in the presence of his mortal Council, who discuss significant business; business involving him, even if they were speaking about him like he isn't present.

"I know you esteem his power, Ariel, it's difficult not to, but how can be sure that Michael is the Alpha? We were last time about, you know, him."  
"He is an atrocity, a being of synthetic power, Level Four or not, we were mistaken to assume he was our leader!" Ariel snaps at John, slamming his fist on the desk of his office. Michael senses pure and unbridled hatred fuming from Ariel's aura, but this hatred is not aimed towards the Witches for once, it's aimed towards someone else entirely, someone he does not know about, someone the Council are simply not permitted to speak about. The mention of him, however, has intrigued Michael indefinitely. "With Michael, however, I have no doubt, no hesitancy."  
"Even if Michael is the Alpha, we have no method of verification without advising the Witches, and we're not exactly in good books with them," Behold announces, a sarcastic tone lingering in his throat. "Our next step of verifying this epiphany is contacting Cordelia Goode and requesting Michael perform the test of the Seven Wonders."  
"Asking permission, huh? I thought you had more spice in that wardrobe of attitude," Baldwin snarks, side-eyeing his colleague if you could name them that, they're more like dogs in cages side by side, barking at one another and waiting for their locks to break. "We shouldn't seek agreement, gentlemen if we wish to have Michael complete the Seven Wonders, we should regulate it personally and privately. Leave them out of the light, keep them in the dark, and we'll have our Alpha before we know it."  
Michael couldn't help himself but smile at the 'discussion' and the idea of his triumph being secretive, away from the eyes and ears of the beings currently in control of the hierarchy of magical practitioners. These Warlocks know no bounds, no trust of the hierarchy, no sense of loyalty towards it, well, at least half of them do, Behold and John, to a much lesser extent than Ariel and Baldwin. That's when John Henry Moore decided to open his contradictory mouth once again."

"And if we do that, Baldwin, we risk war against the Witches, Hawthorne will suffer because of our indiscretions," John suddenly stands up from his seat, staring at Ariel in the eyes before pointing towards Michael. "And I, John Henry Moore, will not allow that consequence on the School, not for an Alpha, and not for Michael. The School will stand its ground and follow the rules, otherwise, I'm walking away from the Council and you'll never see me again."  
And like that, Michael watched John as he left the office and began waltzing his way towards his quarters, Ariel and Baldwin watching closely with resentment. Behold, however, is a different story, rising to his feet also. "I gotta' give it to him, fellas, his heart is in the right place, our obligations and focusses should be with the School, our assessment on Michael can wait. Be vexed with me as much as Y'all want to, but you know I'm right."  
Behold was the second to go, finding himself in the vicinity of his quarters, and the look on Ariel's face, you'd swear he was going to draw out a gun and fire at his back, not that he'd need to. Baldwin and Ariel stood their ground, whispering secretively to one another without batting an eye at Michael, suddenly he couldn't help but feel lesser to them, a Level Four, being ignored by Level Threes, how satisfied they must feel with themselves. Abruptly Michael was feeling the necessity to reach for the quill sitting on Ariel's desk, and send it flying through their throats before burning their bodies, their souls and most importantly, the entire of Hawthorne alongside it. That would be quite the spectacle, Michael concludes, after three weeks of pretending to hide his true power, his true self, perhaps it's time to...

"Michael? Are you listening?" Ariel asks, snapping the young man back into reality, the reality he despises.  
"Yes, I'm sorry, I- I'm just drained from the tests," Michael sighs, rubbing his eyes with his thumb. "May I be excused?"  
"Just a moment, Michael, we need to speak to you about something."  
"Something rather important," Baldwin adds.  
"Okay, what is it?"  
"We won't lie to you, we've been watching and studying your guardian, Miss Miriam Meade, and we've noticed a familiar pattern in her actions," Ariel explains, being careful as to what to say about Miss Meade, noticing Michael's jaw clench at the sound of her name.  
"Three of her husbands were assassinated via poison and after obtaining access to every record with her name on it, we've discerned that she has a very high kill count in her military records and-"  
"Personally," Ariel adds, finishing Baldwin's trivial information of a woman Michael knows more about than they do. "We know she's an assassin, or was, and now resides at a Satanist, which why she took you in. I assume she knew about your potential and intended on using it for wrong?"  
"If that's the case, I did not perceive that, not at all, she treated me like I was the son she never had, and I was unaware of my power when she took me in," Michael says, defensively; the first sign for them to back off. "Where this is going?"  
"What we're wondering, Mr Langdon," Baldwin begins speaking, sitting down in front of the young Warlock, eyes extra serious, voice extra clear. "Is Miss Miriam Mead willing to advance her work? For Hawthorne? Just one singular job, we will make it worth her while."  
"Please, Michael, if she does this job for us, we will be able to advance your performance of the Seven Wonders."  
"Alright," Michael agrees, smirking at the older men, conforming to their terms without a second thought. Their other is just so, delicious. "Who do you want her to kill?"  
"We want her to kill John Henry Moore and Behold Chablis."


	5. Emancipation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you guys can probably tell, I've altered the timeline, primarily the time between Queenie's death and Michael's rise to Alpha Status, changing it from Three Years to a few weeks. I wanted Mallory to save Queenie like in the show, but that's a few years before Michael's enrolment into Hawthrone's… so I realised I had created a huge gap… which is now filled by my change. I'm not sure why I'm explaining this… but I just don't want any confusion on my part. Hope you guys enjoy!

Mallory gasps from her nightmares and into consciousness, heavily breathing she realises that sweat has engulfed her body throughout the night, sticking her sheets to her skin. She stares around the room before looking outside the window that sits in front of her bed, it's still dark out, that would be good if she had the ability to sleep anymore, damn shame she doesn't. Mallory swiftly opens one of the drawers of her bedside table and picks out her journal, writing as many details of her nightmare as she can remember, god it felt so real, she could see them like she was there with them; John Henry Moore and Behold Chablis, the traitors Ariel Augustus and Baldwin, and Michael, the abomination sitting before the lot of them, listening to them discussing the potential of their so-called 'Alpha Warlock'. No, not a Warlock at all, rather a snake, a snake in the tall grass of Hawthorne, the thought of him makes Mallory sick, and worse, Michael is adding more fuel to the hateful fires of Augustus and Pennypacker; an accomplice to their planned assassination of John and Behold. As much as it felt like a dream, she must consider that she's foresighted what is yet to come or perhaps what may be happening now? No, that can't be, it seems too early for all of this to be happening now, unless, unless Tempus Infinituum recalls some side effects, that would make sense, right? If her foresight is true, that means Coco is due to arrive any day now, and at an even higher note, this will give Miss Robichaux's advantage an enhancement, besides, she can't just let them die, Warlocks or not. However, the nightmare did not end there, she recalls Pennypacker mentioning something of the Seven Wonders, yes, loud and clear like a siren. They want to kill John and Behold so they can advance Michael's test, so he can perform the Seven Wonders, that is something they cannot let happen, not him, and not now. She needs to get to them before they do, she will not allow the abomination take life once, not this time.

Writing down the rest of the details, Mallory rushes out of her room and into Cordelia's office, locking the door behind her so nobody interrupts her private study. Mallory opens the window to allow the cool night air into the office before getting into it, taking book after book off Cordelia's shelves and placing them in a messy pile on the floor, only to then find herself a comfortable spot alongside the books. She doesn't dare sit in Cordelia's office chair or resort to the books that behold dark magic, next Supreme or not, Mallory feels it's safe to emphasise the 'next' piece of that thought. Even with her immense power, Cordelia is still Queen in this castle and dark magic remains forbidden, while Mallory? Mallory is next in line to protect Cordelia's legacy; a place she is more than willing to resign for the time being.  
"This is where the fun begins, Mals," she whispers to herself, opening the book and placing her hand on the first page. "Reedus Extunis-Complius. Reedus Extunis-Complius."  
Her chants cause her mind to absorb the verdicts of the book, every page of every chapter, in a mere matter of seconds, any performable magic within the book is now accessible and understood, as long as she doesn't forget. Tossing the book on the side Mallory grabs onto the next book, opens it and places her hand on the first page. "Reedus Extunis-Complius."  
The process went on for a couple hours, book after book, chapter after chapter, page after page, after the first hour it seemed to become tedious, to say the least. Mallory's mind was finding itself in a state of overload, too many instructions and descriptions of spells to use for both attack and defence, as much as this will all become useful in the war that is to come, she's beginning to regret not sleeping in like she was allowed.

Mallory sighs, staring out the window of Cordelia's office, noticing that a small bulb of light is beginning to pierce through the sky; Dawn. The sight makes her wonder what events have in store for everyone today, she may have an idea but lately, she's been pretending she doesn't know everything from the future, it really sucks the life out of the days and the weeks that are yet to come. However, it appears this accelerated timeline is making things interesting again, at least Mallory hopes. She sighs, wishing Coco was with her right now and wondering whether or not she should tell her about their shared future and their plans to stop the future from, do what she did for Cordelia, her Council, as well as Myrtle Snow and to a lesser extent Kyle. Sighing again, realising that she's worried about things out of her hands, out of her hands for now at least, Mallory continues on her research, moving onto the fifty-ninth and final book, the creepiest book she's ever seen in her entire life. By the sight of its cover it seems to be made of Werewolf-leather, that fact alone gives her creeps, and that's before she sees the author of the book; Diary Of Advanced Transmutation by Celeste De Boucher Donadieu. As Mallory recalls, there was a lesson taught by Cordelia under the topic of the Coven's history and the Supremes who guided them through it. Celeste De Boucher Donadieu was a powerful Supreme Witch, the Supreme Witch that led the Coven south to New Orleans during the Salem Trials in order to save the Witch species as a whole. Following the Witches arrival in New Orleans, Celeste began a long and violent conflict between herself and the Werewolf Clans of the area, and after single-handedly slaughtering the Clans using her Supreme powers, she was given two titles by those who heard or saw the conflict; 'The Butcher Of Vieux Carré' and 'The One Sent From Below'. The slaughter of the Werewolf Clans brought upon a major effect on her mind, giving her an insatiable lust for violence and power overall, so much so that she planned on making herself and her council immortals by making a pact with Satan, even willing to go as far as to sacrifice her own girls to achieve such power. Fortunately for Coven, past, present and future, her Council denied the request and secretly plotted against her, to stop the madness for good, ultimately succeeding by trapping her in Hell by a forced and forbidden Descensum spell, and then plunging a dagger into her heart. Cordelia used Celeste De Boucher Donadieu as well as her own mother Fiona Goode as examples, that sometimes even a Supreme Witch can plunge deep into corruption, and that sometimes its the duty of the Council and or the students to protect the Coven, even if that means destroying their Supreme. Cordelia had stated that the legacy of Celeste De Boucher Donadieu resides in memory alone, but this diary speaks otherwise, why would she write a diary on Advanced Transmutation if she was seeking eternal life and power? The amount of time on people's hands is incredible, Mallory thinks, slowly placing her hand on the first page of the diary, already feeling the knowledge and power that's hidden inside of it. That's when a woman's voice begins speaking to Mallory from within her mind itself.

"Congratulations, my dear, for obtaining my diary on Advanced Transmutation, an ability I consider as one of the most ambitious to achieve. As you may or may not know, my name is Celeste De Boucher Donadieu, and I am the Supreme Witch of the Crescent City Coven, or at least I was, depending on the course of this reading. Inside this diary is my knowledge of my lifetime of scrutinising Transmutation, and since you were brazen enough to obtain this message via a translation spell, you are worthy enough to withhold this knowledge and the power behind it. To prove your worthiness, I must warn you that after your mind absorbs every piece of knowledge that resides in this diary, the diary will begin to burn, leaving no trace of its existence and you as the holder of my legacy. I must also warn that this form of Advanced Transmutation is destructive and vicious, often appearing as a small destructive tremor. No matter what they say I am, no matter what happens when I eventually lose my mind, my doings are not my legacy, this knowledge is. Thank you, my dear. This is Celeste De Boucher Donadieu, please, protect the Coven. Goodbye."  
Immediately after the message finishes, Mallory's mind is violently engulfed with the verdicts of the diary, the ferocity of the knowledge bringing a burning sensation from inside her head, sending her knees impacting against the hard wooden floor. Her surroundings, the sights, the smells, the sounds, begin blurring from existence before transforming into a blank white canvas. Mallory now stands on nothing, everything is silent, the familiar smell of New Orleans is long gone, but the knowledge in her mind remains; the descriptions, the steps, the directions, all of it. Mallory thinks of what they look like before speaking their names, following that, her surroundings begin to shift, and now it's as if she's there with them, hearing their private conversation as they travel down a road in John Henry Moore's car, heading towards a gas station. She'll be with them shortly.

* * *

"I'm telling you, Behold, there's just something not right with that boy."  
"John, you've had Michael in your shit books ever since you met him, half of the Council are starting to think you just don't like him," Behold admits, watching as John glances at him.  
"Half? Not most?" He asks.  
"You know me, John, I've never been one to follow Ariel and Baldwin like a puppy. Oh, don't look at me like that, let's just say you're not the only Michael makes uneasy, okay? He's powerful, too powerful for his alleged age, every time I look at that boy he looks older and older, like he has accelerated ageing or some bullshit."  
"Wow, they really pissed you off, didn't they? Normally I'd expect you to be engraved with their decisions but instead," John questions, turning into the gas station. "You got some serious attitude this morning."  
"Ariel and Baldwin have been losing their touch for years, they're living in an age that doesn't belong to the Warlocks anymore and they're denying it, ever since Celeste De Boucher Donadieu, everything changed for us. Sure, Warlocks remain powerful creatures, but our hierarchy has changed, they just need to get the fuck over it," Behold pauses, opening his door. "As for my attitude, John, I always have a damn attitude."  
"Don't worry, I believe that," he adds, exiting the vehicle alongside Behold. "So, why are going into California of all places?"  
"I've been craving some fish tacos, and we both wanted to get away from Hawthorne for a day, why not take both opportunities?"  
"You have a point," John hesitates, glimpsing at his old friend as he places the nozzle into the gas pump. "I'll be honest with you, Behold, I'm not sure how much longer I'll be at Hawthorne, not while Ariel is in charge at least. I just feel like the longer I stay there, the chance of me getting a dagger in my back increases with every night."  
"You don't really mean that, right?"  
"To be honest, I'm not sure anymore."

"Thank you very much," an older woman says to the gas station clerk before slipping and dropping her groceries on the muddy ground. "Goddammit."  
"Are you okay, Ma'am?" John asks, placing the nozzle back onto the pump before walking towards the older woman. "California weather, right? When it does actually rain, everything is all muddy and inconvenient."  
"When you get to my age, everything is inconvenient," the older woman chuckles, attempting to bend down to pick up her groceries, but failing. "My back, the most inconvenient of all, I swear, if I could age backwards, specifically to your age, I would."  
"You're not alone in that club, sister," Behold admits. "  
"Wouldn't we all, even men at my age wish they were back in their primes and young men in their primes wish they were children, so on and so forth. I guess we gotta' take it as it comes, even death," John says, plucking up the older woman's groceries. "Here you go, Ma'am."  
"Sometimes death just comes for us sooner rather than later, unfortunately."  
"Are you okay, Ma'am? I don't mean to pry, but are you sick or something?" John questions, helping the older woman to her car.  
"Oh, I wasn't talking about me," the older woman laughs to herself, causing John and Behold to glance at one another. Before John can glance back at the older woman, she slashes a blade towards John's throat, but Behold catches her arm using Telekinesis before throwing her to the ground.  
"You son of a bitch!" Miss Meade growls, crawling and pulling out two handguns from the door of her car before aiming them towards the two men. "These bullets are from some mutual friends of ours! You're just lucky they directed me to make your deaths quick and painless."  
"HOW IS SLITTING MY FUCKEN THROAT A PAINLESS DEATH?!" John growls as he sits behind his car beside Behold. "This bitch is fucking crazy, but, mutual friends?!"  
"You don't think-"  
"If we get outta' this, my friend, we're gonna' kill them both, burn them at the fucking stake for what they've done, this crazy bitch too."  
"Well, let's focus on this crazy bitch first, shall we?"

"Come on, just pop your head out for a second and it's over, I'm one hell of a shot, you won't feel a thing."  
"Too bad I can't say the same for you, Miss Miriam Meade, I know who you are, and I want you to know something," John pauses as a bullet passes through the driver and passenger windows. "After we kill you, we're going to kill Ariel and Baldwin, and after that, we're going to kill Michael too, the precious son you never had, Michael Langdon. Do you like that idea, Miss Meade?"  
A barrage of bullets begins busting and rocking John's car, showering the men with shards of glass and metal, the scream of Miss Meade is only just heard over the cracking of her weaponry, blocking other any other noise, any other noise. So much so, John and Behold don't even hear a stranger, an unknown force, a future ally sneaking up behind them, joining them in their rally behind the car.  
"I think you've pissed her off," Mallory says. "When she runs out of bullets we have a five-second to get out of here, and when I tell you, both of you will take my arm. Just trust me on this."  
"Who are you?!" John questions.  
"A friend."  
"Does it matter?!" Behold snarls, prematurely grabbing onto Mallory's arm. "Let's get the fuck out of here."  
Right on queue, Meade runs out of rounds in her magazine, cursing and chucking the empty clips to the ground before searching for extras in her car door.  
"NOW!"


	6. A New Alliance

"NOW!" Mallory screams, feeling the sudden presence of John Henry Moore's hand on her arm, and as Mallory focusses her mind on the layout and overall image of Cordelia's Office, all three of them beginning Transmutating across the country. All the way from California to New Orleans, the three practitioners of magic suddenly vanish from the presence of the gas station, the all-powerful force of their Transmutation forming a crater where they once stood, the compulsion and force propelling John's car into the gas pumps, creating a large blast that launches Miss Meade several feet. Unfortunately, she's thrown away from her demise, away from the flames and flammable liquids that were meant to burn her alive, instead, the force knocking her unconscious. Following a few extensively-feeling and uncomfortable seconds, Mallory, John Henry Moore and Behold Chablis appeared back in Cordelia's office, the aura of their sudden presence leaving lesser force the room, however, enough to cause the building to quake and the floorboards to crack. Besides minor whiplash, Mallory is fine despite John and Behold's desperate need for air, Celeste De Boucher Donadieu's studies, her knowledge, the power she's passed on to her, all of it is beyond incredible, and terrifying, to say the least, and the Warlocks stand with the latter, staring at their saviour with content and some form of affair. What has she gotten herself into?

"Who are you?" John questions, quickly gathering himself to his feet. "Where are we?"  
"I think you should show less attitude to the young lady, she just saved our asses."  
"I will once she answers my question; who are you and where are we?"  
"He's right, you should show more appreciation, John," Mallory hisses, barely able to keep her head from feeling woozy. "Explaining who I am will take a much more prolonged time than telling you where we are, where we currently stand is in Miss Robichaux's Academy in New Orleans."  
"WHAT?!" John snaps, with the sudden intensification of his voice causing Mallory to panic. He'll wake everyone up, Cordelia, the Council, everyone.  
"Goddammit, Mallory, what have you gotten yourself into."  
"We Transmutated from California all the way to New Orleans?!"  
Without warning, the door of the office is unlocked and sent crashing open, a shirtless Kyle is the first in the room, charging through and simultaneously grabbing onto the throats of John and Behold and pinning them against the wall with immense speed, too fast for them to counter him with magic. The Coven's Personal Guard has schooled him well, practitioners of magic need absolute focus for performance, and while Kyle drains the oxygen from John and Behold, it makes it nearly impossible for them to defend themselves, especially with his superhuman grip. Cordelia and Myrtle are next to enter the room, followed by Zoe, who rushes into the room to stop Kyle from killing the Warlocks, calling out to him and caressing his arm.  
"KYLE! THAT'S ENOUGH! LOOK WHO YOU'RE STRANGLING! PLEASE, LOOSEN YOUR GRIP ON THEM!"  
Finally, it was Queenie who entered the room, who's seemingly too tired to give a shit about the entire situation. "What in the fuck is going on?"  
Mallory thought that Cordelia would already be screaming and demanding answers, however, Cordelia seems more intrigued than enraged, put two and two together before anyone else, with the probable exception of the recently resurrected Myrtle Snow.

"John Henry Moore and Behold Chablis in Miss Robichaux's," Myrtle Snow scoffs, clicking her tongue. "I see you've finally met our beloved Kyle."  
"Kyle, let the Warlocks go," Cordelia calmly commands, watching as Kyle releases them before being dragged towards the threshold of the office by Zoe, with her mouthing the words "sorry" to John and Behold. "Thank you, Kyle. Okay, Mallory, why don't you explain to me why Mr Moore and Mr Chablis are standing in my office when they should be in California with the rest of Hawthorne?"  
"She Transmutated us here," Behold briefly explains, kneading his neck. "That's all we- Jesus Christ, that boy has a grasp on him, enhanced-fucking-strength."  
"Yes, he does, especially when he thinks you're here to kill us," Zoe comments, sitting Kyle down and massaging his temples; a tactic she uses to instantly calm him works every time. "Are you okay?"  
"I'm fine, I just- I just scared myself is all," Kyle admits, giving Zoe a grey smile.  
"Thank you, Miss Cordelia, I'm not sure I would have lasted another ten seconds in that enclosure," John groans, also caressing his neck. "Behold is right, this demented bitch was seeking to kill us in California, sent by not only our own 'beloved' Council but by the hands of a student too. Mallory, I'm sure I recall you titling her, appeared out from nowhere, told us to grab her arm and-"  
"Here we are, in your office with one of your Witches, and a strange one at that, when it's usually you and your Council that come to us for meetings."  
"Unfortunately," Queenie hisses, rubbing her eyes.  
"Oh my lord, shut up, Queenie," Zoe says, sounding frustrated to hide the fact she's holding in laughter.  
"Mallory? Is their story correct?" Cordelia asks, accepting a slight nod from the anxious and troubled Witch. "In that case, I presume that Michael Langdon is the student, Miriam Meade is the 'demented bitch' and the betrayal from your Council is under the manipulation of Langdon?"  
"Yes, yes, and plausibly, my question is how did you comprehend that?" John questions.  
"Have you heard of the ability known as Tempus Infinituum?" Myrtle Snow asks.  
"One of the rarest magic abilities of all time, granting the user to control to the past, future and back to the present, and all of that is only one a basic level of ability understanding," Behold cuts in, placing his hands on his hips, glaring at Mallory. "I've read about it in our library, John knows of it, however, his research is less extensive in comparison to my own. No offence, John."  
"Couldn't be fucked caring, so none taken."  
"Of course you don't, besides, Your question, Miss Snow will be followed by my question; is Mallory here from the past, or from the future."

"Originally, I resided in a timeline comparable to this one, yet, a timeline destroyed by a nuclear apocalypse, an apocalypse brought upon by Michael Langdon, a being born of tainted blood, brought into this world by the horrors and evil of the house he was conceived in, essentially he's the Anti-Christ. Before you both question those claims, think about this, does Michael seem to know exactly how to make your skin crawl? Has he ever made you see something so subtly that you're not sure that you saw it right? I know you've both witnessed his power first hand, I saw it in one of my dreams, I saw Michael, Ariel and Baldwin purposing your assassination, Michael was going to get rid of you, either way, Ariel and Baldwin just fell for the inducement. He's charismatic, somewhat beautiful, unnaturally powerful even for his young age, a form of power similar to myself but, in the end we're opposites; Michael has a lust for blood, I have an obligation to protect and nurture, Michael wants to destroy the world and I wish to protect it when I couldn't last time. I barely escaped the last timeline with my life, I witnessed what remained of the Earth with my own eyes, witnessed Michael kill everyone I've ever cared about, that is why he must die," Mallory explains, growling at the end as she walks up to John and Behold, placing her hand on each of their arms, sharing her memories the same way she did with Cordelia, her Council and Myrtle Snow, though, this time the process was much easier. After a few seconds, she releases them and takes a step back, giving them some room. "Just in case you had any more doubts."  
"I believe we did," John admits. "Any last form of doubt was diminished, now I believe every word you say, Michael must be stopped, Ariel and Baldwin included if they get in our way."  
"Our way?" Zoe asks, glancing at Cordelia carefully. "It sounds like you're with us, John Henry Moore."  
"I believe they are," Myrtle Snow comments, smirking at the young men.  
"That's because I am," John admits, glaring around the room at his new allies. "If me battling my own brethren means the difference between the destruction or conservation of the world, I will always choose the battle, sure, I haven't always seen eye to eye with Miss Robichaux's, but it's time to toss aside our differences and fight beside one another."  
"Warlocks and Witches fighting together?" Queenie subjects. "That's totally kick-ass."  
"There's no other way of saying it; I'm with John and I'm with all of you, I will fight alongside you without a second thought," Behold agrees, holding out his hand for Cordelia, who takes it willingly, accepting their alliance.

"Well, well, well," Cordelia snickers, shaking Behold's hand with delight. "It appears our alliance has made an impactful change to the plan; it appears Mallory was always going to rescue you, and by the sounds of things, Miriam Meade did not see Mallory's deed, all she knows is that you both disappeared into thin air, and may or may not report that you're both dead. In a couple days I and my Council will summon Ariel and Baldwin to New Orleans, stating that we've heard rumours of their new prodigy and that we would like to address that in person, they will bring Michael, as well as the other Warlocks I presume; the reason for the summoning is so Michael can bring two of our associates back from the dead. As you saw in Mallory's memories, Misty Day and Madison Montgomery are brought back from Hell by Michael to catch our attention, in this timeline, we will be using that for our advantage, to make the Academy whole again. During that timeframe you both must remain hidden from sight, you're our secret weapons, you're knowledge of Hawthorne and your former Council, as well as your abilities, will weaken them from the inside, making it easier to take them down if need be. Taking Michael down while he's out of the safety of Hawthorne is important, he's out of his comfort zone, in unknown territory, he'll be on alert but otherwise helpless. Once we have Misty and Madison, as well as Coco St Pierre Vanderbilt, a strong and loyal ally, as well as our Mallory's best friend, arrives tomorrow morning, the day Michael and Hawthorne arrive she will get a similar treatment with the whole memory share, if that is okay with you Mallory?"  
"Of course, Miss Cordelia," Mallory agrees with glee, excited to see her not yet best friend tomorrow morning. God, she's missed her.  
"John," Behold says, catching his attention. "Perhaps we should consider attempting contact with you know who."  
"Do you think he would answer us?" John questions, really considering contacting a friend from their past, a being of unnatural power, similar to Michael, someone that may very well be as dangerous as Michael, if not more.  
"He won't have a choice to answer us if we show up at his turf," Behold advises. "I know where he is, at least, where he was last seen, he's building a house about twelve miles out of New Orleans. It's very well possible."  
"Do you know someone who may be another potential ally to our cause?" Kyle suggests, disputing the Warlocks.  
"Someone outside of Hawthorne?" Zoe suggests further. "Another Warlock?"  
"A very powerful potential for our cause, someone who hates Ariel and Baldwin more than we do, a former student, in fact, someone with a dark history, one of which that fuels his rage, a weapon within itself," Behold explains, seemingly second-guessing himself, wondering if they should go through with it. "If we can contact him, there's a chance we could engage him, talk him into fighting with us rather than for us like he's known to do."  
"Who is this being?" Cordelia asks. "Just hearing about him has caught my attention."  
"Then you shall meet him, Miss Cordelia," John promises. "We shall all meet him."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... new character being introduced in the next chapter... and a favourite making her debut. Thank you for your patience guys!


	7. The Inception

Following a surprisingly bright but moderately awkward breakfast between the Witches and their two Warlock visitors, Cordelia and her Council, Mallory, Kyle and the Coven Personal Guard, as well as John and Behold began their journey in order to seek out another potential ally, leaving New Orleans behind for the day, allowing the Academy's students free time for study, to shop, to do whatever they want until their teachers' return. Since departing, Cordelia has grilled John and Behold for extra information on their potential ally, with each answer adding more fuel to the flame of curiosity.  
"What else do we need to know about this former student of yours?" Cordelia says, prying once more, making Behold chuckle while John rolls his eyes. "Besides being a former student of Hawthorne, you haven't mentioned his name or anything yet."  
"His name is Percival Theobald-Godwin, his half-brother, Elliot Godwin is a student at Hawthorne, while his sister-"  
"Astrid Godwin," Zoe gasps lightly, interrupting John and being the third person to do so. "She's a Witch at Miss Robichaux's, quite esteemed for her age, but, she's mentioned having a single brother, but not two."  
"Elliot is quite the same, esteemed and states that he only has one sibling, that statement regards Percival's history at not just Hawthorne but the history that is his entire life," Behold explains, treading on the line between Percival's general and personal information. "Their father, Issac Godwin, had an affair with Percival's mother early in his arranged marriage with Elliot and Astrid's mother, however, this was before Percival's siblings were conceived, nevertheless his existence is one of the many reasons as to why Elliot and Astrid hate their half-brother. May I add, we must be careful when speaking to Percival not to mention his personal life, for the moment John and I will only say and explain important aspects of his personal life, the rest will be revealed in due time; personally by Percival himself."  
"We will all be careful," Mallory says, agreeing with John and Behold's before looking at Cordelia, watching her nod in approval of Mallory's continued involvement. In more than one way, Cordelia is proud of Mallory, although at this time she personally knows little of her, their bond growing ever more reinforced. "Please, um, continue."

"Percival became a student at Hawthorne shortly after his abilities were discovered, which was inevitable due to his combined bloodline of Theobald, Witch, and Godwin, Warlock, and the immensity of his power was unlike anything Hawthorne had ever seen at the time. He was seven years old when he came to us, it was after his father was killed in an accident, and he remains the youngest student at Hawthrone in history, a lost and lonely child with power stepping above students twice and three times his age, but with the immensity came instability, his abilities were so volatile and dangerous that a strong layer of fear followed. The child claimed that he was cursed by his grandmother, a Witch of extreme dark magic, which formed him into a danger not just to himself but, everyone around him if his power wasn't under complete and utter control, even the slightest step back and it became toxicity, like a naked flame to leaking gas. We didn't believe him at first, but, after a while, the possibility of his claim being truth was becoming more and more, the thought terrified Ariel, who thought Percival was our Alpha Warlock. Not just I and Behold but the entire Council spent sleepless nights keeping watch on the boy, making sure he didn't reduce the Academy into a pile of ashes, but as the years went by and Percival became a young man, Ariel and Baldwin had lost hope and interest in helping him overall, and this revelation eventually caused Ariel to prohibit us from endorsing Percival any longer, or to speak to Percival at all."  
"It broke my heart to see Percival's following struggles, Ariel and Baldwin had ordered us to spy on him, reporting Percival's behaviour in the minimal classes he was allowed to attend, in truth, they were just looking for any excuse to cast him out, and unfortunately we went along with it like slaves," Behold admits. "Percival was forced to practice his power alone and was bullied by the other students, no matter how many times the boy reported the bullying, Ariel allowed it to continue without another word; all, because Percival had apparently let him down by not being the Alpha Warlock Ariel, had only dreamed of meeting."  
"Sounds like Ariel was just being an asshole to be an asshole," Queenie declares. "And I imagine the sudden prohibition destroyed your bond."  
"Yes, you would be correct," Behold sighs. "Losing my bond with that boy was worse than any break up I'd ever experienced, to this day, I regret following Ariel and Baldwin like a puppy, John would agree with me."  
"Yes, I would."  
"Was he cast out or did he leave on his own terms?" Zoe questions, looking at Kyle who stares back at her before his eyes move back onto the road, the conversation reminding her of the time when the Coven discovered he had murdered Madison in rage. Kyle, refusing to accept the idea of being burnt at the stake, was caught attempting to leave the Academy in the night, discovered by Zoe herself. It took her nearly two hours to convince him to stay, promising to keep him safe no matter what. The look in his eyes says it all, it reminds him of the very same thing, causing him to remain silent with the CPG. "Anyone, even someone with the resilience and power of this Percival, would have eventually caved in from the pressure of what was going on around him."  
"Even a Supreme would be crushed by such cruelty," Cordelia agrees, eyeing the Warlocks. "I imagine your ashamed of yourselves."  
"You would be right, Miss Cordelia," John says, staring out of the limousine window. "You would be dead on."  
"I always knew Ariel was a prick, I just didn't realise he was a prick at such a high level," Mallory comments, getting a chuckle from Behold and John.  
"You have no idea."

"Percival eventually gave in to the pressure and lashed out, killing one of the other students with his uncontrolled powers, we'd discovered what happened the next day and Percival was nowhere to be seen; the only reason we know what happened was because he'd sent Behold and I a letter nearly a year after the incident, explaining his side of the story. It matched our theory, proving that Percival remained his honest and loyal self, and more, he'd explained that after months of quiet and isolated focus, he'd finally learnt to master the control over his power and created his own flawless technique, which simultaneously saving himself from his own destruction, notifying that he'd never looked back since, that everything was falling in place as it should. Following the letter, we didn't hear much from or about Percival, Ariel seemed to forget about his existence, but we did not, always wondering where he was and what he was doing. The next time we heard about Percival, so many years had passed, even now it's been two years since our last encounter, and, well, when he'd finally contacted us, the news wasn't good, everything had gone wrong for him-"  
"We're almost here," Kyle says, driving towards a half-built house, with a figure slowly and steadily leaving the half-built home sitting in an open field, a shotgun in his hands. "Is this the place? There's a guy with a gun and a house that looks halfway through development."  
"It's the address they obtained from the real estate," Queenie remarks. "I hope this is the place, I want some fresh air, looks like the right place to get it."  
"Yeah, this should be the place, you all stay in the limo, for the time being, if it's not the place we'll have to leave, if it is the place, we don't want to spook him," John says, staring out the window of the limo, specifically at the figure, analyzing his appearance with his eyes before looking at Behold. "You ready?"  
"Ready."  
"Hey, guys?" Zoe says, catching the Warlocks' attention. "Be careful out there."  
"You need anything or anyone, whistle out, you have a Supreme and her Council on your side, use them," Cordelia agrees, clearing her throat. "I should be saying two Supremes."  
"Yes, Ma'am," John agrees. "We shouldn't be too long, watch for a strange hand gesture, once you see that, you're welcome to leave the vehicle. Let's go, Behold."  
"Don't have to ask me a third time," Behold mutters, closing the door behind him while those left in the car silently wait, watching as the Warlocks and the stranger walk towards one another in a tense matter, especially once the stranger fires a warning shot.

"Don't you think there may be a reason behind why I decided to build my home a comfortable distance away from civilisation? Or do you just think I'm doing this for shits and giggles? John Henry Moore and Behold Chablis at my note quite a door? Why don't we skip the greetings and get down to whatever Hawthorne wants with me this time?"  
"Already with the attitude," Behold whispers.  
"You don't seem happy to see us, Percival," John questions lightly, staring at his former pupil with discomfort. "Besides the growth of your hair and the new additional of a beard you, you look exactly the same."  
"You don't. Neither of you, well, it appears the two years since our encounter hasn't affected dear Behold as much as it has you."  
"Aw, shucks, Percival, you always know how to make a man blush," Behold snickers sarcastically.  
"I get that a lot," Percival groans in frustration before eyeing John once more. "You still smoking?"  
"More or less, but I imagine you can answer your own question by being able to smell it on me from where you stand."  
"Actually no, I cannot, as you can tell I'm not exactly pleased with your presence so, why don't you tell me why you've come all this way to bother me?"  
"Straight to the point, huh? If we were to tell you the full extent of our situation then we'd be here all day, and plus, we're not the right people to be explaining it as we're not the ones in charge of this operation. Ariel and Baldwin betrayed us, hired some hitwoman to execute us, so we're working on a different side, on a more noble side."  
"So, this 'noble side' seems to be able to afford a limousine, interesting, and by the appearance of the suits sitting in the front seats, you're working with the Witches of New Orleans, correct?"  
"Correct," Behold confirms. "The sudden construction of our alliance was unexpected, but welcomed in the end, they want what we want, so we work together on common ground-"  
"And what is the thing each side wants?" Percival questions. "Warlocks never work with Witches, so the privation must be astounding."

"There's a war approaching, a war that will mean the difference between the conservation and destruction of the entire world, billions will die if we do not put a stop to a very powerful Warlock with a demonic heritage. Ariel and Baldwin are on his side, consumed by their ideology of him being the Alpha Warlock, which he's proven to be more than willing to continue to take that mantle, it was when Behold and myself threatened that ideology that they both conspired to murder the both of us. At this very moment in time, Ariel and Baldwin believe we were destroyed in an explosion, so we are working in the shadows of Miss Robichaux's, using our wits and knowledge to do whatever we can to assist Miss Cordelia and her Witches. The boy's name is Michael Langdon, and he can bring the lost souls of Hell back into the living world, a feat he is only capable of due to his direct connection to Hell, something you will witness first hand when we trick him into bringing back two more of the Witches allies, if you join our cause and fight alongside us. We've seen what you can do first hand with both of your form of abilities, as well as without using them. Percival, I know we were cruel to you in your time at Hawthorne's, but with you, we may stand a chance on winning this war and stopping the end of the world, stopping the Anti-Christ, Michael Langdon. A young Witch named Mallory, she can show you what she's seen, what she barely escaped from with the ability Tempus Infinituum."  
"The ability to travel through the forces of space and time," Percival gasps, interrupting John's plea for sustenance. "This, Mallory, she's with you?"  
"Yes, Percival, please, will you join us?" Behold asks, despair in his voice. "Miss Cordelia is willing to pay huge money for your involvement."  
"If you would have asked me two years ago, perhaps I would have accepted, but you're both too late," Percival growls, hugging the shotgun to his chest. "I don't practice magic anymore, my other abilities nulled away over the time of not using them, and I've retired from the life of a mercenary. Go home, there's nothing and nobody here for your cause; no Warlock, no Mercenary, and no Man. You're better off forgetting you ever saw me, I have more things to worry about than your war, so just go back to New Orleans, John. You too, Behold, I'd say it was nice seeing you, but then I'd be a liar."  
"Percival, please," John pleas.  
"Don't walk away from this," Behold joins in. "We need every man we can get-"  
"And I'm not a man, as you know, now I'm tired of being polite, you have three minutes to get off my property or things will become vicious, now fuck off."

"Doesn't look like things are going well," Kyle states, looking back at Cordelia. "Perhaps you should take a step in? As much as I wish to say we don't need this guy, Mr Moore and Mr Chablis seem to believe otherwise, and I guess I trust their ideologies."  
"He hasn't given us the 'strange hand gesture' yet, but it seems their negotiations are over," Cordelia says, opening her limousine door. "Now it's our turn. Zoe, Queenie, Mallory? Aren't you coming?"  
"Don't have to ask me twice," Queenie agrees, slipping out the limo and beside Cordelia, followed by Zoe, Mallory, then Kyle and the Coven Personal Guard. "I gotta' admit, Cordelia, this place has some beauty about it."  
"I can't help but agree with you there, Queenie, it's unfortunate we have important business until this thing is over. For now, let's just focus on recruiting this Percival character, it's either that or let's focus on getting out of this situation unscathed. Zoe, focus primarily on his eyes while Queenie, focus on the movements of his hands if either of you feels like he's going to be a threat, throw a telekinetic blast at him and pin to the ground. Kyle, you know what to do if it all goes south, just as we practised."  
"Yes, Cordelia," Kyle says, walking beside Zoe. "I'll do whatever's necessary to ensure everyone's safety, just give me the word and the CPG will charge."  
"Of course, Cordelia, I will," Zoe replies, mouthing I love you before smiling at Kyle, who seems nervous, at least she's noticed. "Let's just hope it doesn't come to that, I'd like to get through this without conflict."  
"Amen to that," Queenie matches, recognising that Mallory looks apprehensive. "For someone who's seen the future, you're looking quite timid."  
"He doesn't seem to be a threat if anything he just wants to be left alone, perhaps we should heed his warning and leave him alone?" Mallory says, questioning the situation. "It's just in the last timeline, he didn't fight alongside us, he wasn't a part of our cause, but I also don't recall us knowing of his existence, let allowing seeking him out. Perhaps it's worth risking the recruitment one more time."

"If he doesn't accept our next offer, then we will leave him be, you have my word, Mallory," Cordelia says, agreeing to her terms as they reach John and Behold. "We were going to stay out of the negotiations, but you said so yourself, Percival is a well-needed force to our cause, I just thought you should use some support."  
"Thank you, Cordelia, just do us a favour and stick behind us, Percival is a little wary of Witches," John warns. "Another part of his history he will have to explain, that's if we succeed in his recruitment."  
"I'm sorry, who the fuck invited Miss Robichaux's to my property?! Supreme Witch or not, I don't give a fuck, get off my property or else!" Percival snaps, cocking his shotgun but not quite aiming the weapon towards the visitors. "Please, just, leave me alone."  
"Take it easy, we're just here to talk, okay?" Kyle says calmly, his empty hands up in a surrendering gesture as his eyes move onto Queenie, noticing she has a blade softly placed vertically against her wrist, knowing that one false move and Percival will be bleeding out before he could blink. Kyle would prefer they avoided such a dramatic conclusion. "We're not going to hurt you, we're not even sure if we could if we tried, so take it easy."  
"Percival, I don't think I have to introduce myself but I will regardless, I am Cordelia Goode, Supreme Witch and Headmaster at Miss Robichaux's, I presume that Mr Moore and Mr Chablis filled you in as much as they could on our situation?"  
"I told them I wasn't interested, I'm not the guy you're all looking for, I don't work in the business of being whatever anyone needs me to be, I gave up on that life and I'm trying to make something for myself, I'm done with the bloodshed, so please just, leave me alone."  
"We're enemies of Ariel and Baldwin, just like yourself, and we've heard what they did to you, the isolation you were forced to go through when you should have been rehabilitated and helped," Cordelia reveals, her words catching the attention of Percival, who simply eyes the older woman, focussing on her every movement. "We're here to recruit you, Percival, that is correct, but beyond our oblations, we're also here to help you in any way we can, and the way we work and have always worked, is if you join us, you will always have a home at the Academy, always have a family you can depend on. If you decline our offer, you will be left alone no questions asked, we're not in the business of forcing people how to live their lives, we could just simply, use your help."  
"I just- I just wanna' be left alone, I've gone through too much if I- if I fall into another conflict, I'm afraid I'll never come back."

"Mallory," Zoe whispers. "Show him, show him everything, but be gentle, just as I told you, calm your own mind and you will calm his simultaneously."  
"Yes, Miss Zoe," Mallory says, her eyes meeting Percival's own cold, broken eyes. Feeling what he feels without knowing what he's gone through makes it difficult to maintain eye contact, but Mallory keeps the pace as he takes small steps towards him, being sure not to startle him.  
"This is Mallory," Cordelia says, introducing the young woman while simultaneously keeping a close eye on the two of them. "She's seen what is to come, and she has the ability to share what she's seen if you'll allow her to show you, all it takes is a single touch."  
"Easy now, Percy," John says calmly. "Easy."  
"Trust me, it won't be as bad you think," Behold reassures. "It doesn't hurt."  
"I don't like people being in my head, let alone Witches," Percival grumbles, causing Mallory to slow her pace.  
"I'm not going to hurt you, I just want to show you what we're up against, to show you the horror of what is to come," Mallory tells, her hand inches away from being from his arm. "May I?"  
"Fine."  
Percival remains soundless, not opposing against Mallory's bestowing touch, but before Mallory's hand can be softly laid on his own, they're hindered by the sound of two vehicles driving towards the half-built home. The sight of the two pick up trucks entering the clearing causing Percival to growl, almost sounding like an animal as he turns to face them.  
"Who's coming?" Kyle questions.  
"We'll continue this debate in a moment, go back to the limousine, for now, I'll deal with this," Percival answers, slinging the shotgun over his shoulder.  
"Trust me when I say we should listen to him," Behold admits, looking scared for the first time during their encounter with Percival. "Let's do what he says."  
"He didn't answer Kyle's question, who's coming?!" Zoe hisses, her attempt to pursue Percival stopped by John stepping in front of her. "Get out of my way."  
"I can't do that, Miss Zoe," John says, denying her request.  
"PERCIVAL?!" Cordelia screams, watching the young man's attention. "Who's coming?"  
"Trouble."


	8. Friction, Temptation

_**Chapter 8: Friction, Temptation** _

"Trust me, we're better off doing what he says, falling back to the car and waiting things out, we don't want to be IN CASE, in case things go wrong with whoever is coming," John emphasises, the pace of his speak slow and clear as he eyes the Coven Personal Guard. "A little help guys?! Kyle?!"  
"I'm with John and Behold on this, this is a potential Level-Two Threat, we should prompt back to the car and await Percival's further instructions, this isn't our business so we mustn't find ourselves in a potential crossfire," Kyle agrees, getting a look of annoyance from Zoe. "Please, Zoe, you know this is not necessarily the right thing right now, but the safest thing right now."  
"I can fight, we can fight, so why shouldn't we?" Mallory questions, watching as the two pick up trucks park horizontally hundred-and-fifty yards away from the limousine, fifty yards away from Percival's half-built home, the bearded young man walking towards them with the shotgun slung over his shoulder. "We're trying to recruit Percival, we're not going to do much recruiting if he's hurt or worse, dead."  
"Trust me when we say, Miss Mallory, we don't have to worry about Percival dying, that boy is more than capable of taking care of himself," Behold assures, the third attempt to guide everyone back to the limousine, back to the clutches of safety. "It doesn't matter whether or not one of us or most of us can be brought back with Vitalum Vitalis, I'd rather none of us having to go through the ordeal."  
"I'm sorry but leaving him out there alone is wrong! I sure as hell ain't going to stand back and watch this go down like it's a damn show! No way!" Queenie remarks, staying put before her dark brown eyes reach Cordelia's. "Cordelia? Where do you stand in this?"  
"I-"  
That's when Percival's visitors begin exiting the vehicles; nine men, wearing light kevlar vests and armed heavily with firearms, however, they're not aiming their weapons towards Percival, not yet at least.

"Percy," one of the men sighs, walking slow-paced as if he doesn't want to be here in the first place, two other armed men following him closely behind. "We meet again."  
"Erron, it's nice to see you again, old friend, with newcomers I see?" Percival yawns as he walks up to a pile of firewood, his one free arm tearing an axe away from the messy pile, his eyes flickering in obvious boredom. "I see  _they_ have  _you_ and the crew continuing on with their negotiations."  
"Newcomers are always welcome in my crew, you of all people should know that, so long as they know to follow my rules and to remember that  _I'm_ the boss, if they follow those two principles, then everything will go smoothly. They explained the others they hired have had zero luck persuading you to turn it all in, so I guess, they thought some old friends would make it the process easier, persuade you much easier," Erron explains, looking at the other men that accompany him. "It's been a while, just under two years since our last assignment together."  
"So that's what you're calling them now, assignments? Interesting synonym for such a cruel practice, but I digress, what is it you want, Erron? You and I both know that I won't yield away from this place, I spent an honest earnt outlay of money purchasing this land, it's my last chance at peace, at finally taking back my life for good, and I won't let  _them_ take it away from me, I've taken enough already, don't you think?"  
"I'm not paid for my opinion, Percy, I'm paid for requested results, and unfortunately, I wasn't paid in advance, so I can't get paid until you leave."  
"It appears you won't be getting paid then."  
"Percy, please, all of us just want to be paid, to move on this assignment and onto something more constructive, just accept their price and move-"  
Percival growls is anger before throwing the wood axe into the bonnet of one of the pickup trucks at high speed. "NO! NO! I WILL NOT NEGOTIATE WITH THEM! YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY?! BECAUSE I DO NOT NEGOTIATE WITH WEREWOLVES! I WILL NEVER NEGOTIATE WITH WEREWOLVES!"  
"Percy, just calm down, I didn't mean to trigger anything, okay?" Erron reassures, holding his hands up in the air. "Look at me, I'm not you're enemy, okay? Listen, why don't we go inside and make some Irish coffee, like old times?"

"I have urgent business to discuss after this current encounter, but after I'm done with them," Percival says, pointing at his visitors from New Orleans. "But afterwards, yes, we should do that, it's- been quite a while since I've had company. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some expeditious business to take care of, I won't take long."  
"That's okay, I have an affair to take care of too," Erron sighs, unholstering a concealed Colt 1911 from the back of his jeans and unloading it on Percival once he's turned around; the entire round emptying into Percival's back and knocking him to the ground.  
"NO!" Mallory screams out. "PERCY!"  
"Oh no," Zoe cries out.  
"Holy shit," Queenie gasps. "That didn't just happen, no way that just happened."  
"FUCK!" Kyle growls, gaping at the other CPG's. "All CPG come with me to secure some firearms, we're not letting these fuckers get away with this."  
"I don't believe that will be required of you, Kyle," Cordelia remarks, her eyes locked and twinkling. "Normally I can feel the contrast between those who are stirring and those who are stagnant, but the truth is, I haven't felt either feeling since finding his energy. No, but I've felt something, something different, something individually connected to him, and in fact, I can still feel it."  
"Trust us, guys, if not, your Supreme, your tears and blood are not needed, all we can do is wait," Behold comments, his hand placed on Kyle's chest. "Just wait a moment and you will see; Percival is more than full of surprises."  
"No negotiations required, assignment complete, fellas."  
"And them?" One of the other men asks, causing Erron to gaze towards the representatives of Miss Robichaux's. "They're witnesses, what're your orders on how we deal with them?"  
"Do you fellas think it's worth taking more than just young Percy here's life? Or should we just leave them be, call it a day?" Erron asks his crew, smirking at their uncertainty as he reloads his gun, only to aim his weapon towards them; although he may not hit someone dead on, the possibility makes it all the more fun. "Allow me to decide for us."

Without a warning, Percival hurls the stock of his shotgun upwards, impacting Erron in the jaw and causing his body to jerk upwards. A sickening crunch follows the impact of Erron's body on the ground and his movement ceases, Percival's however, does not; swiftly tearing away a blade from Erron's belt and projecting it towards one of the bodyguards, successfully hitting one of them in the throat.  
"Oh fuck!" The other bodyguard screams out before getting blown away from Percival's shotgun, blowing a large hole in his stomach and spilling his insides onto the grass; given no chance to aim his SMG towards Percival.  
Acting fast Percival unloads the shotgun towards the remaining members of Erron's crew, his former brothers in arms, men he knows are less than enthusiastic when being shot at, subsequently forcing them to take cover behind the pickup trucks, right until every shell is emptied. The moment the last shell is cast out of the ejection port, he makes his second move, yanking the blade from the bodyguard's throat while simultaneously unholstering the other's handgun from his belt, only then is he ready to face the remaining six threats.  
"YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST WALTS IN HERE?! TRY TO KILL MY GUESTS?! TRY TO KILL ME?! I SHOULD HAVE SURMISED YOUR TREACHERY THE MOMENT YOU SHOWED UP AT MY DOORSTEP AFTER A YEAR OF NOTHING! NOW, NONE OF YOU WILL BE GETTING OUT OF THERE ALIVE! YOU ALL BROUGHT THIS ON YOURSELF!" Percival screams, sharp-shooting the first member to reveal themselves directly in the head, blowing his brains through the back of his head. "IS THAT ENOUGH PROOF?! LET'S FIND OUT!"

* * *

Michael sits morosely in his room, his private room, gifted to him by Ariel and Baldwin, now that John and Behold were favourably slain by the hands of his precious Miss Meade, each of their rooms became vacant. The esteemed Warlocks gave him a choice between Behold and John's former rooms, and without completely understanding why, Michael decided on John's, the man he wished he was able to kill himself. Michael's mind was full of ideas of the many different and horribles ways he could have killed him, it could have been a downtime, Michael knows he's capable of performing Vitalum Vitalis, discovered when he decided to break one of his fellow student's neck in his sleep, only to panic and bring him back from the dead. The most difficult part was the retention warping spell, and to be safe, Michael went as far as making the guy forget who he is, let alone that he snuck into his dorm and broke his neck because he was bored and because the voices in his head commanded him to. He came too close to being caught, for his lineage to be discovered, Michael doesn't fear much, that is something Ariel and Baldwin learnt after only a few days following his enrollment. However, being found out, having all of his and Miss Meade's plans and courses of manipulation crash back down on top of him like a collapsing building, that is something he does in fact fear. The very fact that the Warlocks may very well be stepping closer and closer towards the discovery, has him on edge, on the edge of betraying and murdering everyone in the very compound he sleeps in at night. One half of him hopes it doesn't come to that, but the other half? It thinks otherwise. A knock on the door drags Michael back to the dreadful horrors of reality, a reality he plans of improving.

"Michael? It's Ariel, may I please come in?"  
"Yes, come in," Michael says, rolling his eyes before Ariel walks through the door, closing it sharply behind him. "Just checking to see if I've settled in?"  
"That and more, the style of John's room appears to fit you well, don't you think?" Ariel asks.  
"I admire his sense of darkness, everything else I'd more than enjoy disregarding," Michael comments sharply, eyeing the older man with curiosity. "You mentioned there was more than just a check-up?"  
"Indeed, it appears the whores of Miss Robichaux's have discovered your enrollment, in all honesty, it is our duty to report any and all new enrollments to the Supreme, something we had failed to do. Unfortunately, Hawthorne will be scolded for failing to report  _your_  enrollment, not only that, but it appears somebody had reported the fact that you are a Level Four, fortunately, that has caught the Supreme's attention."  
"Good attention I hope?" Michael questions, noting Ariel's anxiety. "You appear concerned, Mr Augustus? Don't attempt to hide it, I can- feel your anxiety from here."  
"I have no doubt in my mind that you can feel it, dear Michael, your powers grow every single day, soon you will be more powerful than even any Supreme Witch. The concerns you sense are not abrogating anxieties, but rather concerns of activity, I'm nervous because the attention you have caught is impressive, as I'd explained to Miss Cordelia Goode, you wish to attempt to perform the Seven Wonders."  
"And?"  
"And she, surprisingly, allowed the idea, it appears Miss Goode is growing vulnerable, she's dying if you will, whenever a new power begins to grow in order to replace the former, the former will die from weakness. Whether or not the weakness is disease, organ failure, mental health degeneration, the weakness will eventually take over the former, because that is the natural way of things. It will happen to you, eventually, or better yet, perhaps it won't? Perhaps your power will never dire away and you will be the Alpha for the remainder of time? I like to believe so, I like to believe that those who wield great power will never have to cast it down, never give it up, sure, the Witches have been casting down their Supreme statuses for generations, but we are not Witches, are we? No, we are men, Warlocks, stubborn creatures with iron wills, and you, Michael, your will, will be indestructible."  
"Alpha for the remainder of time, that title suits me well," Michael chuckles, smirking as he stares at himself in the mirror. "When are we due to leave Hawthorne?"  
"Our presence has been inquired in three days time, however, it's not just our presence that has been inquired, but the presence of the entire school. Be ready, Michael, practice the Seven Wonders as you see fit, if you don't, then just prepare to give those bitches the show of their lives. Goodnight, dear Michael."  
"Have faith, Ariel, I won't let you down," Michael smirks grimly. "I won't let you down."


	9. Amalgamation, Confrontation

Percival sits on the back of one of the pickup trucks, a cigarette in one hand and a bottle of booze in the other, a mass of blood staining what was once his fresh clothes and clean skin, his heart still pounds in his chest; a side effect of the deadly rage that intoxicated it moments before, or was it hours? He stares at the sky before observing his surroundings, it remains to be daylight and his guests from Miss Robichaux's are not only still here but approaching his position, it's only when Percival begins  _truly_ focussing on his surroundings, does he find the real horror of what he's done. Erron's body lays in the front line, followed by two of his comrades, one with a fatal knife wound to the throat, the other with his insides blown out from a shotgun blast to the stomach. The corpse closest to Percival is the comrade he'd swiftly shot in the head, the last mercenary he remembers killing, and the cleanest kill overall, now the horror truly begins. Further, from the last mercenary, lays another mercenary, cleaved in half horizontally, the mess that sits around him created confirming that it was a sloven multiple cleave kill. The next body is just the messy as the least, sitting a few metres away from the last; a headless corpse, a broken car window with blood-soaked glass and the head sitting on the other side of the bloody window. On the other side of the second pickup truck, lays the last three bodies; one missing both of her arms and her bottom jaw, one with his head split completely in half, and the final mercenary, pinned to the pick up with the axe in his neck and collarbone. The sight of what he's done, the horrific, terrible things that he's done, it all makes Percival want to throw up, but instead, he takes a long, breathless swig of his bottle of booze, and without taking in a breath, sucks in the smoke from his cigarette, exhaling only when his guests join him. They are, without shock, in complete silence, with not even the Supreme having an idea as to what to say in the current situation, so instead and  _appropriately_ , he begins speaking.

"It appears no intervention was required," Kyle comments, glaring at John and Behold. "Just as our Warlock friends advised."  
"I just- Firstly, I want to apologize for everything that you all just witnessed, that's, of course, if you actually did, in fact, beheld the horrors I had just perpetrated. It was the overwhelming feeling of  _betrayal_  that set me off, the sensation flooded my- everything with rage, the rage I thought I left behind the moment I left the life of a mercenary and bought this land for a new life. Not only was it betrayal, but betrayal brought upon by a clan of  _beasts_ , beasts that have already taken everything from me, as well as the combined greed of Erron's crew, the money they would have gotten for killing me must've felt so precious for them. Erron, a man I used to regard, used to call my confrere, my brother even, raking me when I turn my back, fortunately for me and unfortunately for him and his crew-"  
"It takes more than just bullets to kill you?" Mallory finally speaks, standing in front of the rest of the group, the closest to Percival, gazing at his injuries; the bullets definitely pierced where he was shot, going straight through, but he's not gushing blood as profoundly as a regular human would. How powerful must Percival be that bullets only slow him down rather than kill him?  
"How much more?" Zoe asks, using Telekinesis to seal his bleeding, assisted by Mallory's own Telekinesis, with each Witch utilising the magic so subtly, in fact, Percival doesn't notice their deft medical attention.  
"Much, much more than what bullets has to offer," John agrees, his body wanting to place his hand on Percival's shoulder in order to support him, but his mind comprehends that isn't the wisest thing to do.  
"Are you okay, son? You're wounded," Behold remarks. "We have a first aid kit in the limousine if you require attention?"  
"I'll be fine, I'm used to self-medical by now, I'll be okay once I recover from this intoxicating feeling brought upon by the rage," Percival groans, staring into Cordelia's eyes. "Anything to say? I could really use some wisecracking right about now."  
"No wisecracking in this circumstance, Percival, but it's clear that even without the use of your magic, you remain ruthless, serendipitous or remarkably proficient," Cordelia comments. "Which one is it?"  
"Why don't you take a guess?" Percival asks, weakly smirking at his guests.  
"A mixture of all three?" Queenie answers. "That would be the most obvious choice."  
"This one is smart," Percival chuckles slowly. "A smart one indeed."

"So what happens now, Percival? What do you plan on doing? Are you going to leave this place behind that you've been- compromised?" John asks, glaring back at the mutilated bodies. "It appears that  _they_ want you out of this land more than ever if they're sending mercenaries after your head."  
"Leaving behind all of this, all of what I've worked my ass off for, all that I've built so far, that is the last thing I'm going to be doing, the very last," Percival growls, putting out the cigarette on the cargo bed of the truck before jumping off of it and walking away from the group. "I understand that Erron was just the inception of my problems, for better or for worse, I'm willing to let that go, for now. However, if they send more men and women after my head, more men and women to their inevitable deaths, then I'll just have to bring the fight to them and end it."  
"And if it comes to that? What happens after?" Mallory asks.  
"After they're gone, I don't know what happens, all I know is they'll be gone for good, I've never really thought about it."  
"Okay then, what  _do_  you plan on doing in the time being?" Behold questions.  
"Well for starters, I'm going to clean up this mess; pile up the bodies and burn them into ashes, forage, strip and clean the pickups, wipe their registration and use them for my own property. Once that's done- once that's done- you said you needed an ally, right? Does ruthless, serendipitous and remarkably skilled match the job requirements?"  
"It more than meets the specifications, Percival, I'm thrilled to hear that you're deciding to join our cause, I just wish it was under different circumstances," Cordelia admits. "Do you want Mallory to share with you the stakes we're fighting for?"  
"No, that won't be required, I'm fighting beside you as an ally but also as a legionnaire, I will discuss with you the cost of my cooperation, privately, however, not right now, I have much to do."  
"Do you require aid?" Kyle asks, stepping forward, despite Zoe's plea for Kyle to stay beside her. "I would be more than happy to assist you with clearing your property of the undesirables."  
"That won't be required, kid, I prefer to clean up my own messes, speaking of," Percival chuckles, his eyes meeting Erron's body. "He looks dead, I can't see him breathing, but you can never be too sure. When is my cooperation required?"  
"Three days from now, Michael and the Warlocks will be arriving in New Orleans, fortunately, they won't be staying at the Academy, but all of our business with Hawthorne will be conducted there," Zoe explains briefly, noticing Percival's abnormal focus on Erron's corpse. "Does that- urgh- work for you?"  
"It most certainly does, Miss," Percival agrees. "Now if you excuse me, I have to get work, starting with this asshole, I just gotta' make sure he's dead."  
"I don't think I wanna' see this," Queenie admits, glaring away in disgust.  
"Me neither," Behold agrees as Percival's boot slams down on Erron's head, smashing it like a bloody, chunky melon.

* * *

"They're late," Cordelia says as she stands on the upstairs balcony of the Academy, with John and Behold a favourable distance away from her, and Myrtle Snow standing by her side. "Ten minutes late to be exact, Mr Theobald-Godwin appears to be running late too."  
"Warlocks have an awful and inconsiderate habit of being late to their own inductions," Myrtle hisses, looking back at John and Behold. "That doesn't include you two, dearies, you happen to be the exception. I happen to spoke to Mr Augustus and Mr Pennypacker personally, and I couldn't have made it clearer that they had to be here at Three PM sharp, it seems they were more focused on the fact that I was alive. It took me five minutes to persuade them that I had earned back my place at the Academy and that the option of being burned at the stake was cast aside. As for this Theobald-Godwin fellow, I look forward to meeting him in all of his glory, considering the stories I've heard about him."  
"I have no doubt Percival will impress, let's just be sure that the girls don't get- distracted by him. Fortunately for us, Ariel and Baldwin aren't the sharpest of edges, as for their terrible sense of time, the Warlocks are quite literally  _never_  precise with their time. It's only a matter of it and they will arrive just as they were ordered to, as for Percival, I don't dare speak for him, however, I acknowledge he's not one to run from a battle, let alone a war," John remarks, chuckling a little under his breath. "Just- trust me, Miss Cordelia, two things are going through Ariel and Baldwin's minds right now."  
"One, they dread your power and overall reign over magic practitioners, and because of that dread, that's where two comes in; they desperately want Michael to take over as Alpha Warlock and Alpha, period," Behold explains, sipping on his delicate glass of red wine.

"Are you saying you two don't fear my power and reign?" Cordelia questions, her eyes still focussed on the city but the question getting an amused smile out of Myrtle. "What I could do with my power if I was to lose my mind just as  _Celeste De Boucher Donadieu_ did?"  
"Once upon a time, yes, I feared your power and what you could do with it, I also questioned whether or not you were fit to reign Supreme. But after the construction of our alliance and after witnessing  _who_ you are first hand, I no longer question your reign or your power, instead, I admire it."  
"You are more than fit to reign Supreme of magic practitioners, in fact, you and Miss Mallory seem to be the only ones suited for the role, regardless of Miss Mallory's juvenility," Behold agrees. "That young woman has more than surprised us, she has experienced the worst of the worst and yet she continues to fight onwards; every time I think of the word resilient, I picture Miss Mallory with that smile on her face."  
"Yes, I can't argue with you there, Miss Mallory is something else entirely; blooming, powerful and brave enough to go back in time and start the fight with Michael all over again to stop the end of the world," Myrtle admits, placing her hand on Cordelia's arm. "If anyone deserves to be the successor for Cordelia, it is her."

Cordelia gives her advisor and mother figure a smile before turning around to face the Warlocks. "The arrangements are set, now all Hawthorne has to do is actually arrive for their induction, once it's over they can fall back to wherever they're staying, which they will probably mention. Once they arrive and only after they've left, I need the two of you to be hiding in the attic, clear?"  
"You know, the boldest move you could probably make is killing all three of them the moment they walk through the Academy doors; Ariel, Baldwin and Michael with a single vicious slash of Mallory's or your Telekinesis and their heads come lopping off of their bodies. It would certainly spare John and I the privilege of meeting all of the little spiders up there! But I guess as easy as it sounds-"  
"I wouldn't consider it an orthodox approach, the most effective, yes, but unfortunately, we cannot get Misty Day and Madison Montgomery back without the manipulation of Michael's abilities," Cordelia sighs. "Besides, we have the advantage, it's best we don't ravage that advantage, and I'm confident you can both handle a few spiders."  
"Unlike my fashion-infused friend here, I'm not easily spooked," John shrugs. "Spiders, snakes and- alligators right, Behold?"  
"Frogs, not alligators, those giant reptiles I can handle, but frogs," Behold pauses, grinding his teeth together. "I'm starting to question why the fuck we came to New Orleans, are you sure Miss Robichaux's can't just move somewhere else until this is over? I heard South Carolina is great this time of year."  
"You're connected to the wifi and it'll be an hour, an hour and a half at the most, I promise," Cordelia says, watching as Kyle and Zoe quickly find themselves up the stairs and into Cordelia's presence.  
"It appears our guests have arrived," Myrtle remarks before glancing back outside from the Academy balcony. "Two buses?! Thank god we didn't offer sanctuary."  
"Safe to say that was absolutely  _never_  going to happen, not while I'm alive," Kyle grumbles, his eyes meeting Cordelia's. "Miss Cordelia, our guests have arrived, both of them; Hawthorne is yet to leave their transportation, while Mr Theobald-Godwin is waiting in the dining room downstairs."  
"Mallory and Queenie are keeping him company, although he's quite silent tonight," Zoe reveals. "Are you ready for Hawthorne's induction?"  
"I guess it's time to be, Zoe," Cordelia nods. "John, Behold, quickly find yourselves in the attic, I will text you personally when you're permitted to devise."  
"Yes, Miss Cordelia," John agrees, followed by a contemplative bow from Behold.

After making their way down the stairs and into the dining room, Cordelia, Myrtle, Kyle and Zoe find Percival with Queenie, Mallory, as well as the rest of the Academy's witches waiting in the dining room. Mallory and Queenie seem to be speaking the young man's ears off, to which he silently and politely listens, all while the other Witches stand in complete silence,  _most_  of them gawking at Percival, while the rest of the girls gawk at Mallory's interest in the young Warlock. Unlike his last attire of a white singlet, red flannel and blue jeans, all covered in blood by the end of their encounter, his current attire are much darker, more fitting for a Warlock; black jeans, white suit shirt and a black leather trench coat, even his beard has been trimmed but not shaved off entirely.   
"And here he is," Kyle says quietly. "He looks uncomfortable."   
"Don't whisper, Kyle," Zoe nudges him. "It's rude."  
"Glad to see you could join us, Percival, your attire is astounding," Cordelia says, welcoming the young man with a comment.   
"My attire happens to be the reason as to why I've been remiss, Ma'am, but I'm here now, more than combat-ready, willing to follow orders," Percival says in a confident, yet cautious tone. "Fortunately I've had Miss Mallory and Miss Queenie to keep me company since my arrival, speaking of which I arrived only a moment before Hawthorne did, I wonder what's keeping them."   
"I can only imagine what they're up to," Mallory comments, rolling her eyes a bunch. "They're lego puzzles, not Rubix cubes."  
"Most probably executing some discourse about how Warlocks are about to convert into the 'Alpha Males' of the world of the craft," Myrtle answers snarkily.   
"And you must be Miss Myrtle Snow, I've heard stories about you, easily one of the most gifted Witches of the last generation," Percival says, standing up from his seat and shaking her hand. "It's a pleasure meeting you, Ma'am."   
"As it is meeting you, Mr Theobald-Godwin, John and Behold have spoken highly of you and your mastery of the magic arts," Myrtle states, getting an unsettled look from Percival, but not because of her, but the mention of his magic. "I look forward to seeing what you have in store."   
"Let's just see if it comes to that." 

"Here they come now, it appears the  _boys_  have decided to enter the Academy," Queenie snarks, chuckling before the doors open dramatically by the Telekinetic grasp of Ariel and Baldwin, who enter the Academy first, followed by an elegantly dressed Michael, who matches his finely dressed headmasters, if not causing them to fall into his shadow. The sight of Ariel and Baldwin causes Percival to freeze in ferocity, eyes locked on them and his teeth clearly gritted together, regardless of the fact that his mouth is closed, the fierceness is only intensified when Ariel and Baldwin begin glaring back, having the same look on their faces and the questions in their minds; why is Percival at the Academy? Standing beside Cordelia and her Council? Once Mallory's eyes reach Michael's own overbearingly confident eyes, she does the very same thing, her body solidified in wrath, eyes fully bolted down on the young Warlock, while  _her_ teeth aren't sharpening, the aura of her magic is, intensifying to the point where she can hear and feel the cadence of Michael's heartbeat, with her physical body screaming in the want to stop it taking another beat.   
"It appears this is going to be a lot more difficult than I anticipated," Percival whispers.   
"Yes, yes it is."


	10. Encounter With The Demon Prince

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've realised that Coco isn't in the picture yet... but there's just been so much going on with this story... but don't worry... she will be entering the picture next Chapter! Her alongside two others... stay tuned guys!

The moment the Hawthorne arrived in the Academy, the intensity that tenants in not just the room but the entire property emanated sharply, sending the anxiety and fury levels of Mallory and Percival through the roof. However, after a long and obvious moment of menacing stares between Ariel and Percival, as well as Michael and Mallory, the intensity seemed to tire down, but not by much. The staring had stopped and Cordelia had taken over the event like she was supposed to, welcoming Hawthorne to New Orleans, shaking the greedy hands of Ariel and Baldwin to Myrtle's disgust, who faked the worst smiles the girls had ever seen, not that their real smiles would be any prettier. After their welcome, Ariel and Baldwin had disappeared with Cordelia to her Office, leaving the students to speak, or in most cases, bicker at one another; with each side arguing their superiority over one another. Kyle and Myrtle are just glad that they weren't the only ones left in charge of the Witches and company, but Zoe and Queenie were as well, leaving their little group hanging out together like friends, just like they used to in the previous timeline, with the exception of Percival of course, and regardless of circumstances, the thought makes Mallory smile. Despite the change of circumstance and how difficult it's become to notice, Mallory has observed that the group is slowly becoming closer to her, more trusting of her and to an extent, more reliant on her but in the best of ways. That thought alone proves to her that there's still hope of stopping the Apocalypse and Michael, that the family she fell in love with in the previous timeline remains, the only difference, that they know what's coming, that they're prepared to stop it, that she won't have to watch them die all over again. Although Ariel and Baldwin are gone, Michael remains present, conversing with more Warlocks then Witches, but that doesn't matter, he remains a vexation for Mallory, while Percival is being triggered by two  _other_  individuals who are sitting together, staring and whispering things about him, grimaces glued to their faces; his younger half-siblings,  _Elliot_  and  _Astrid_   _Godwin_ , a Witch of Miss Robichaux's and a Warlock of Hawthorne.

"I'm beginning to think coming here was a mistake," Percival admits, feeling the eyes glaring his way. "I've said a lot of things since arriving here, but I seemed to have forgotten to warn you all about my blunt honesty."  
"You're having second thoughts? Of all the time in the world, right now you're having second thoughts? Once we're having the first taste of serious god damned pressure?" Queenie asks. "Great, isn't that just generous of you."  
"To be very honest with you, I'd much prefer killing Erron and his comrades over and over again, rather than being in my current position. At least while killing them I didn't have my fucking siblings staring at me and whispering things to one another, now did I?" Percival growls, giving Queenie some serious stink eye, only realising after a few seconds of doing so, further evidence that he's truly forgotten how to interact with people, at least without being an asshole. "I apologize, Miss Queenie, I didn't mean to snap at you, I-"  
"You have Heterochromia Iridium," Queenie says, interrupting Percival, which suits him greatly, just means he doesn't have to explain himself, or his situation with his half-siblings. "I didn't notice it back at your property, but then again, none of us really got the chance."  
"You're right, he does," Zoe confirms, glaring into Percival's eyes alongside; one a pale green, while the other is a dark ocean blue. "It's quite difficult to notice when, you know, you're covered in blood or death staring."  
"Even more difficult when you're covered in blood  _and_ death staring us," Kyle adds, getting out of his seat and tucking it under the table. "I'm just going to take a stroll around the room, see if there are any problems occurring among the Academies, I won't be long."  
"Great idea, baby, see you in a moment," Zoe smirks, placing a kiss on his cheek before he begins his patrol.  
"Six in every thousand have Heterochromia Iridium, but unlike the majority of individuals with your condition, your eyes are much more prominent and elegant," Myrtle comments, sucking on her vape pen before blowing out vapour in the living room; her latest fixation.  
"Thank you, Miss Myrtle, you are too kind," Percival chuckles, glancing at his siblings but only for a moment. "How long is Cordelia going to take with those cunts."  
"I can't object to that description because I've  _already_ seen what they're like," Mallory snickers softly, striving not to glance back at Michael, but it's like he's summoning the presence of her eyes, well, either that or the serious need to assassinate him right here and now is calling out to her. If she was to kill him at this very moment, all she'd have to do is grab one of the toothpicks using  _Telekinesis_  from the entree table and send it through his neck, watch him bleed out in front of everyone, but would mean somebody would pay, somebody would be burned at the stake, and that person would be her, she wouldn't allow anyone to take the blame, and if she has to die in order to kill  _him_ , then that would truly be a worthy sacrifice. "But there seems to be a lot of those currently in proximity."  
"What? Lots of c-"  
"Yes, Percy, a lot of those."

"So, Miss Mallory, you mentioned your best friend is arriving tomorrow morning?" Myrtle asks with a soft voice, using  _Telekinesis_  to slowly twirl Mallory's chair and face her, another one of Myrtle's tender smiles fixed to her face. "I must apologize for the whole chair spin, my dear, but I'm still in the early stages of revival fatigue, but I digress. Your best friend, she must be Coco St. Pierre Vanderbilt, am I correct?"  
"Yes, you are spot on, Miss Myrtle, as for our friendship, well, the complicated thing about that is," Mallory begins to speak, looking around for any prying Warlock ears before entering a whisper, only allowing the group to listen in. "Coco doesn't know that we were best friends in the previous timeline or that we're going to be best friends, at least I hope we're going to be, it's a super complex situation. My first instinctive response to seeing her again is probably going to be hugging her tightly, the last time I saw her, she was in the same way as everyone I cared about, everyone except Zoe, thankfully I didn't watch you die, but unfortunately, I can't say the same for everyone else. I've become knocked off track, I'm sorry, but what I'm trying to say is what's important is I get to see her again, that everyone gets to meet her, see who Coco is and how valuable she is to the Coven, that she's finding herself to her  _true_ home."  
"Can this Coco St. Pierre Vanderbilt fight? Is she capable of fighting if required, of taking a life is required?" Percival questions, looking at Mallory through his intense eyes. "If not, she must be trained and prepared to do so."  
"Coco is a number of things, loyal, honest, loving, protective, but brave is not one of them of those things, not at the moment at least," Mallory briefly explains, pausing before continuing on speaking. "However, during our final fight with that fucker over there, she was one of our only allies that managed to land a blow on him before she herself was killed; she'd stuck a blade through his chest and throat, although that didn't kill him."  
"Interesting, she's not brave, but we, in fact, kill to protect those she cares about, that is something I appreciate in someone," Percival comments, letting out a small chuckle from his lips. "We will get along quite well, I believe."  
"I hope so."  
"From what her mother and father, as well as what she herself has told me about her, I have no doubt she will be an astounding member of the Academy," Zoe says, smiling at the young Witch before her eyes glare at Michael, who is himself gazing curiously at the small group, almost as if he's going to walk up to them. "As for the young Warlock currently gazing at us, let's not bother ourselves with him quite yet, okay? Let's focus on the now, so, Miss Mallory, stay frosty, but not too frosty."  
"Yes, Miss Zoe," Mallory agrees.

"So, I did not witness nor hear any arguing but, as I passed around the room it was difficult to  _not_ notice Miss Astrid and Master Elliot conversing in quite a secretive manner, they're whispering things to one another," Kyle murmurs, almost turning to face them but he keeps his composure. "They're either cursing about you, Mr Percival, or they're speaking about things only Miss Astrid is meant to know about. This could prove problematic if she's feeding her brother information she shouldn't be."  
"Miss Cordelia has already enchanted our girls' minds to ensure that nobody with Clairvoyance, who isn't an ally, can read their thoughts or memories. Perhaps we should enchant their tongue too?" Zoe suggests, recollecting where she had gotten that idea from, or should she say who. "Wow, I remember the last person who performed an enchantment on someone's tongue."  
"Unlike the late Spalding, the girls wouldn't be simple-minded enough to remove their own tongue, that and the girls aren't obsessed with their Supreme, at least in current knowledge, but what I wonderful idea, dear Zoe," Myrtle chortles, sipping on her glass of red wine. "I'm glad you girls absorbed  _some_  lessons from me, even if the lessons are straying."  
"As long as you don't kill those with the enchanted tongues," Kyle adds abruptly, feeling the piercing look given to him by Zoe. "Sorry, but as my duty, as Coven Personal Guard I must-"  
"Oh, shoosh you."

"Apologies for killing the fun, but enchantments of the tongue will not be required, with the Supreme and her Council's permission, I will attend to this matter myself, because as much as my siblings hate me to the core, I've always been able to get an answer out of them," Percival proposes, grimly staring at his siblings. "With permission, I will have the answer to that question before the end of the night."  
"I won't disagree with that proposal, Mr Percival, and I believe Zoe agrees with my decision?" Queenie asks Zoe, raising her brow.  
"You would be correct, dear sister."  
"If you're ever required to execute a decision that influences the safety of the Coven and the secrecy of our mission, you needn't ask the Supreme or her Council before making that decision, this is- well, you know the position we're all in, and during the sequence of our position, you will do whatever you must to ensure the security and confidence," Myrtle says in an ordering, almost militaristic-like manner before falling back to her vaping. "For future reference, dear Percival."  
"Yes, Ma'am, alright, if you don't mind, I'm going to go out for a cigarette, I won't take too long, I just- need a moment away from this intensity, it's  _almost_  intoxicating in here," Percival nods, excusing himself before he disappears through the front entrance of the Academy, lighting his cigarette before even leaving the building.  
"It's only a matter of time and we'll have  _two_ cigarette addicts in the Academy, that should be fun," Queenie snickers. "I don't see Madison quitting once she's back in the land of the living, as for Percival, I don't feel like being the one to ask him to slow down on his smoking, not that we have the right to ask. He's an acquaintance and ally, not quite a friend, not  _yet_ at least."  
"He'll open up to us  _when_  he's ready, or  _if_  he's ready, but for the meantime, all of us, including you Miss Queenie, must be quiet, anyone could be listening in on us," Mallory advises, finding herself out of her seat. "I need a drink, the only thing that could make this situation  _any_  better is some sugar, so some soda will do. Does anybody want a can?"  
"Yes please, Miss Mallory," Kyle replies, pointing at Zoe while she isn't looking before putting his thumb up and winking, indicating Zoe would like one too before she notices.  
"I would love one, Mallory, thank you," Queenie thanks as Mallory disappears from view, leaving the living room and entering the kitchen.

Mallory whistles a soft tune while walking through the kitchen, swinging the fridge door where six cans of diet Pepsi sit untouched, the sight of them causing Mallory to scoff.  
"Just when I need sugar, there's diet Pepsi, this world wants me to scream."  
Mallory piles five cans of Pepsi onto her arm before she closes the fridge door, the sudden presence of Michael, who's waiting patiently on the other side of the door, causes her to wince in fear, flinging the cans from her arm. Only inches away from the floor, the cans stop in their tracks, floating in place before rising back up where they're softly placed on the table, all by the  _Telekinetic_ grip of Michael, who has the smuggest smile on his face.  
"I'm sorry, Miss, did I scare you?" Michael asks,  _actually_ looking concerned for Mallory, who shrugs it off, shows no compassion for his 'kindness'. "That was a close one with the cans, it would have made a  _hell_ of a mess, a little shaken but better than all over the floor, right?"  
"I would be lying if I said you didn't give me a fright, but I'm fine, thank you," Mallory quickly says, checking on the cans for any dents, an excuse not to look at Michael in the eye; all in complete fear of killing him right now. "Thank you for, um, catching the cans when I lost my composure, but I have to- get back to my friends, so thanks."  
"You're Mallory, right? Your fellow Witches speak highly of you, if you are in fact, Mallory," Michael puzzles, inviting her to a conversation, to which she reluctantly endures.  
"What exactly have they said about me?"  
"Oh, nothing horrible, so don't worry about that, they speak highly of your power, your ferocity in your practice of magic, they highly praise you, really. One of your fellow Witches stated that you're a bit of a powerhouse, studying and learning every chance you get, so it's quite an honour meeting you, Mallory," Michael says, smiling at the young Witch, his smile almost causing her to lose yourself to it, the only thing saving her from his grin, the burning hatred that resides in her heart towards him. She really should kill him right now, all it would take is the swish of her finger and his neck goes snap, the hating heart is manipulating her thoughts, but she must fight it, now isn't the time for death and blood. "I'm Michael by the way, Michael Langdon."  
"Mallory," she introduces herself back, reluctantly taking his hand and shaking it. "Mallory Catherine."  
"Ariel and Baldwin should be done very soon, and the moment their business is over, Hawthorne will be leaving the Academy. So in case, we don't speak before my departure, I look forward to seeing more of you and your potential, Mallory Catherine," Mallory chuckles, his eyes really taking in the full view of her. Why does he seem so interested in her? Why at this very moment, does it seem like he's studying her like he's looking for a weakness. The thought brings Mallory even closer to killing him. "Until next time."  
"Yes, until next time."


	11. Dismissal, Disposition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good news guys! My plans for this work has changed and I will be extending the 'run-time' from 20 Chapters to 30 Chapters! This gives me more room to spread the story out to the form I envisioned... in comparison to my alternate version of this timeline 'The Other Option'... which is a much brighter and more loving story in contrast to this darker... grittier form... with takes much longer to write... and is much more difficult to write in the time I had given myself. Thank you for sticking with this story... for those who continue to read! Much love to you!

Following Mallory's uncomfortable and nearly disastrous encounter with Michael, the Demon Prince as she's decided to call him, she'd snuck back to the group and informed them about her encounter, specifically to confirm that he's showing no signs of suspicion towards them, instead, a slight form curiosity. The group's reaction was expected, with most of the group remaining to boast about their remaining advantage, while Percival and Myrtle remained in silence, each of them Michael and the other Warlocks like a couple of hawks, all while ensuring he and they don't notice, it appears  _somebody_ is studying the enemy or enemies in this case. It was only a matter of time before Mallory found herself conversing with the Demon Prince, but it took her off guard regardless, leaving her uneasy and slightly staggered, it's not because  _he_ scared her, no, not by any means, rather, the fact that she scared herself. How many times tonight is she going to think and seriously consider literally tearing that smug look off of his face? How many times is she going to consider butchering the Headmasters of Hawthorne? How many times is she going to consider putting the Coven at risk for her own selfish needs? She's not sure about that, but what she is, in fact, sure of, is that she needs to halt the selfish ideas, or else the ideas, are going to ultimately become an actuality.

"She is certainly taking her sweet time in the Office, no doubt those cunts are talking her ear off about the kid's potential."  
"I agree with your words, dear, don't get me wrong, but if I that word comes out of your mouth again, I'll enchant your tongue," Myrtle warns, chuckling as she takes another sip of her wine. "I quite hate that word, it's so distasteful."  
"My apologies, Miss Myrtle," Percival agrees.  
"It's either that, or they're attempting to woo her into allowing the kid to perform the Seven Wonders, tonight," Queenie adds, happily breaking the ice.  
"Unfortunate for them but fortunately for us, Cordelia isn't easy to propose to, not even you and I, who she sees as her daughters, can get her to submit to specific terms," Zoe says to Queenie with a smirk on her face. "They should feel lucky that Michael is performing the Seven Wonders tomorrow, rather than never."  
"Never is preferred," Mallory censures.  
"Patience, Miss Mallory, patience," Myrtle soothes. "You'll find that patience makes it all the more satisfying in the end, trust someone who waited years before ultimately deciding to murder Miss Robichaux's  _former_ Council."  
"Sounds like that was quite the treat?"  
"Oh, dear Mallory, you have no idea, it was only because of dear Misty that I was ever brought back in the first place, that I ever got the chance to exact vengeance on those lying fools, this is why dear Misty deserves to be brought back. If it is, indeed, possible."  
"And as for Madison?" Kyle abruptly inquires. "Does she deserve to be brought back from Hell?"  
"Regardless of your regrets, dear, empathetic Kyle, you will find that that question is completely and utterly controversial."  
"There was quite literally only one way to say that, Myrtle-"  
"And you knocked the response out of the park," Zoe agrees with Queenie.  
"I'm sure that response will change once you see how much  _she_ has changed," Mallory states, looking back at the Madison in her timeline, that sweet, compassionate, loyal, yet tough, somewhat cold and gallant Madison, the woman she watched get decapitated by a sword. "At least, in theory."

"I just hope Miss Cordelia is done with those morons."  
"Why's that? Do you have somewhere to be? If it's urgent, I'll simply let Miss Cordelia know that you had to depart?" Kyle proposes, getting a slight groan from Percival in response.  
"No, it's not that, I- well, I'm concerned every second I'm in the walls of this Academy, I come closer and closer to marching up those stairs and ridding the world of-"  
"Of what, dear Percival? Or shall I say whom, if it's a more accurate statement?" Ariel says, slithering around the corner with the snake he is. It's clear Ariel was eavesdropping, the question is, how long has he been listening? Or better yet, what has he heard? "Fancy seeing you working alongside Witches? You must be desperate for work, or the attention of others."  
The idea causes Mallory's heart to sink to her abdomen, causing her to feel sick to her stomach, Kyle to stare angrily at the Warlock Headmaster, wishing he could wrap his hands around his scrawny neck, just as he did to John and Behold, to his regret. The sight of Ariel causes Zoe and Queenie to stand up and reenter a professional stance, just as expected of them, as much as they would rather save their professional appearance for someone who deserves it, their poor presentation will only hurt the Witches, not the Warlocks. Myrtle doesn't even move a muscle for the Warlocks, as expected, she couldn't give a shit. Percival slowly stands up from his seat, tucking it in before turning to face Ariel Augustus, his sworn enemy, the man that treated him like  _nothing_ , when he  _had_  nothing. This is sure to go sideways.

"The only thing I'm desperate for is some god damned quiet, you kinda' get accustomed to living a peaceful, quiet life," Percival replies in an attempt to knock the Warlock's suspicions off the course. "But what I was saying before you, Ariel curtly interrupted, was I going to head upstairs to serve myself to some well-desired quiet. As for working with the Witches of Miss Robichaux's, an unexpected associate for sure, but a welcomed one, it appears that life throws all sorts of wonderments at you."  
"Working with Witches, I just can't wrap my head around the sight, because you, in fact, hate Witches, there must've been one hell of an offer for you to work with those you hate? This isn't like you, dear Percival," Ariel chuckles. "Not like you at all."  
"That's the thing about you, Ariel, you don't know shit about me, only what you want to know, so why give you the satisfaction of knowing anything more about my life?" Percival growls, looking as if he's going to throw a fist at Ariel, something Kyle is egging on in his head. "Now if you excuse me, I'm going to have another cigarette."  
Without warning, he barges past the older Warlock, bumping Ariel's shoulder in the process, but their encounter is not over yet.  
"You say I don't know you, Percival, but I know enough, specifically  _certain_  aspects of your life, aspects you'd rather keep from all spying eyes and prying ears."  
His words cause Percival to tense up, fists clenching, causing a sickening snap of the knuckles, and his body slightly shaking from what could only be built in rage. Following the influx of rage, it's if the light of the room is being drained away, only for the light to slowly return as his fists fade to an open palm.  
"I'm going warn you, Ariel, and I'm going to warn you once, do not go  _there_ ," Percival warns, glaring back at the smirking Ariel with hateful eyes. "Not  _there_ , I can handle a lot of ridicule, but the moment you go  _there_ , into that dark zone, my patience will only go so far before my temper gets in the way of things."  
"Oh come on, dear Percival, I was just scanning to see you still had iniquity inside of you, and by the impression on the lights, it's there, somewhither, but it is, in fact there."

"That will be enough, Ariel! Enough!" Baldwin interposes, not taking Ariel's side by any means, but he's not taking Percival's either, he's only doing what he feels is right; which happens to be leaving the young Percival alone, for the most  _obvious_  of reasons. He is one of few  _living_  souls that know Percival's horrific and terrifying potential, what he can and probably  _will_ do if pushed far enough, not only that, but he's one of the few that have witnessed it first hand and survived to tell the tale, an easily misunderstood feat. "We're here to discuss the ascension of our School, not to meddle with students or their associates."  
"Of course, of course, I was just having a civil conversation with an old  _friend_."  
"Of course, well, the conversation is now over, yes?" Cordelia asks in a threatening tone. "I believe it's time for the exciting announcement."  
"Yes! Of course! May I?" Ariel asks confidently, finding a reluctant nod from Cordelia, who takes a step back, allowing him to enjoy the spotlight, for now.  
Before Ariel begins speaking, Percival watches as his brother and sister depart, his brother, Elliot, joining his Warlock brothers, while his sister, Astrid, joins her Witch sisters. Now that she's been separated from their brother, he'll be able to challenge her loyalties and report the results to the Supreme, regardless of the result, at least, that's what he's choosing to tell himself. In fact, he's doubtful if he'd be able to tell Cordelia of his sister's estranged loyalty, the thought makes him hope that won't be the case.  
"Ladies and gentlemen, Witches and Warlocks, I am exalted to proclaim that tomorrow night, there will be a performance of the Seven Wonders by a great student of ours, Michael Langdon! I have no doubt in my mind that he'll be able to perform the task at hand flawlessly but until tomorrow night, I wish you all a wonderful and safe evening. Thank you for your hospitality, we look forward to conducting further business with the Academy. Goodnight to you all."

With a half-present round of applause from the girls of the Academy, Hawthorne begin to depart, lead by Ariel and Baldwin, followed by the students, with the very last student to leave the building being none other than Michael himself, who glances back at the group, specifically at Mallory, smiling and waving goodbye to her. Mallory, the group and the Witches themselves only dare speak once the doors are closed and locked down by Kyle and the Coven Personal Guard, after that, it's private again, and for everybody, it has become free reign, with Kyle immediately texting John and Behold, telling them they can leave the attic.  
"Oh, oh God," Mallory gasps like she'd been holding her breath for hours, suddenly covering her face with her hands.  
"What is it, Mallory? What's happened? Are you okay?" Zoe asks, placing her hand on Mallory's back before checking her temperature. "Miss Myrtle? Miss Cordelia? Can you come here, please? She's burning up and bad."  
Myrtle Snow places her hand on Mallory's forehead before placing the same hand on her cheek, sensing into Mallory's emotions without her knowledge, giving Myrtle all the information she needs. "Yes, just as I suspected,  _Rager's_   _Fever_ , a fever brought upon by horrific levels of vehement fury, affecting those who don't normally experience said levels of fury. I must ask you, dear Mallory, in order to confirm my suspicions; did you feel intense rage during your encounter with Michael? Did you feel sick during contact?"  
"Killing him, it's all I could think about, stopping him right here, right now, I almost did too, but that would have ruined our only chance of getting Misty and Madison back, I didn't realise this was going to be this difficult, more than I could have imagined," Mallory reveals. "I've- I've never experienced such a need to kill before."  
"I'm pretty sure that responded to your question, Miss Myrtle," Queenie confirms, sighing at the sight of Mallory's anguish, wishing she could do something to help, but understanding and experiencing the impacts of Rager's Fever first hand, she knows there's only one treatment for it.

"Rager's Fever indeed, it'll pass with some rest, we could all use some rest, once we have Madison and Misty back, we'll begin the training and planning for Michael Langdon's downfall. Everybody! Listen up! Training and planning begin after tomorrow night, so we should  _all_ accept every hour of sleep we can acquire, I won't lie to any of you, I love you all and difficult days lie ahead of us,  _all_  of us, anything can happen and probably will happen, but we will persevere, as we always have, together. We cannot be too confident with the conflict that is to come, we need to be vigilant and sudden when performing our tasks, we must hide in the shadows, but if we take too long, we may lose all over again, each day passes Michael finds himself stronger and stronger, perks of demon blood, I suppose. You're all dismissed, head up to your rooms and get comfortable until dinner, which will be at eight PM  _sharp_ , go on, girls, you deserve the downtime, but I  _will_ see you  _all_  at dinner."  
"Thank you, Miss Cordelia," most of the girls' say before heading upstairs as John and Behold find themselves down the stairs, most of them muttering to one another about how tense the situation just was, among  _other_  teenage-like topics. This leaves Cordelia, her Council and the group downstairs, where they themselves can discuss the recent events that transpired, only beginning their discussion once John and Behold, who is scratching a spider web from his shirt, join them suitably.

"So, doesn't look like it went as well as we hoped?" John asks. "As long as Ariel, Baldwin and Michael are still alive, that's a victory, is it not?" His eyes then meet the distressed Mallory, who still breathes unevenly. "Perhaps not, is Miss Mallory okay?"  
"I'm- I'm fine," Mallory says, breathing slowly in an attempt to calm her nerves.  
"Yes, she'll be okay, she's currently under the toxic influence of Rager's Fever," Myrtle Snow briefly answers, her eyes and focus not leaving Mallory's side. "She needs rest and some water above all, which I will mix with some peace lily for a guaranteed peaceful rest, with her permission, of course. Once she's caught her breath and feels comfortable walking, Kyle and I will escort her to her room  
"Yeah, it was intense, to say the very least," Queenie comments, feeling like she can breathe again now that they've found themselves some privacy. "Unfortunately you both missed some things, a lot of confrontation, a lot of awkward staring and a lot of gloating. To be honest with you two of you, I don't know what was more intense, Mallory's encounter with Michael-"  
"Percival's encounter with Ariel?" Kyle asks, dismissing the other members of the Coven Personal Guard. "For the moment there, I thought you were going to tear him apart as you did Erron and his goons, unlike them, however, I would have enjoyed the display."  
"Yes, I can imagine the intensity there," Behold remarks. "As well as the said display."  
"That's pretty fucking bleak, Kyle," Zoe comments, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow.  
"Bleak but honest, and you love honesty, right?" Kyle jests, winking and flirting at her in response, causing her to divulge her solemn look. "I get you every time."  
"Yes, it was quite difficult stopping me from doing terrible, terrible things to that fucker," Percival sighs, staring at the staircase. "May I be excused for a moment, Miss Cordelia?"  
"Yes, of course," Cordelia grants, watching as Percival disappears up the stairs, almost appearing in a hurry. "I wonder what he's up to."  
"You'll be surprised to learn that he's  _already_ committing himself and his contracted duties to the Coven, in other words, he's working; questioning his sister, Astrid, and making sure that she hasn't told their brother anything of our plans," Zoe explains, she herself glancing at the staircase before looking at Cordelia. "That and he probably simply wants to speak to his sister, from what he told me, it's been a while since he's spoken to his family."  
"Two years to be exact," John adds. "Last time he'd spoken to them, there was a conundrum in his family, caused by a loss, you could say. Ever since those events transpired, they haven't spoken, in fact, it was the most tragic event in his life, that caused the conundrum in the first place, a small portion of me wants to call the tragedy simply an accident, however, the rest knows the truth, that it was no accident at all. I've already said too much as it is, I just hope the interaction between Percival and his sister, doesn't end in a deeper conundrum."

Percival prowls through the lighted hallway of the Academy, every light, electric or candle dimming out in the radius of his presence as he passes by. His eyes linger forward, not daring to look into the mirrors or glass he lingers by, in fear of who he may see, or worse,  _what_. Each of his steps become shorter and shorter, that fact alone, proof of his hesitation to see his own sister after so many years; after she and their brother, two of four family members he had left at the time, abandoned him for the last time. He showed up a vulnerable, frail and broken man, hoping to find some sort of malevolence in a single action, in a single moment, regardless of consequence, so he couldn't exactly blame them for abandoning him as if they always have, that wasn't going to change long before he did what he did. He arrived a broken man and left an insignificant umbra of the man he used to be, the  _thing_ he has accepted and remained ever since. That's when he reaches the door before knocking politely and waiting for the worst.  
The door opens, revealing one of the young Witches that he'd noticed was googling at him while he sat with Mallory and Queenie, by the looks of her she's one of the most popular and respected among the Coven, however, below the likes of Zoe, Queenie and newcomer Mallory.

"Well, hello handsome, now why would the likes of someone who looks as yummy as you be coming to our dorm room, hmm?"  
"May I speak to Miss Astrid Godwin, please?" Percival gently asks, his arms held behind his straight back, hearing giggling voices in the backdrop of the room suddenly go silent.  
"Now do you wanna' speak to our dear little Astrid? Do you have a history together?"  
"Something like that, yes."  
" _Personal_  history?" The young Witch probes further, scanning for an answer she isn't going to get.  
"Nothing like the history you're likely pondering in your mind, no, that would be unnatural and unacceptable. Can you please do me a favour and inform Miss Astrid that- her brother is waiting outside the room for her, and that, he wishes to speak to her? That would be greatly appreciated."  
"No kidding?! Another brother?! Now that I gaze at you from the front, I don't see much of Astrid and Elliot in your appearance, but there's definitely  _something_ shared among you, I just can't place my finger on it, are you sure you're related?"  
"As related as half-siblings go, yes, I will be waiting outside for her, she can take as much time as required, but I will waiting for her regardless."  
"Another brother, huh? That's new news to me, Astrid has only ever mentioned having  _one_  other sibling but seemed to have indicated that they had departed years ago, or was dead to her at the very least. I'm sorry, I'm rambling on, I will go speak to her now, hopefully, she doesn't take too much of your time, just a moment."  
"Yeah," Percival sighs, his eyes slowly moving onto a mirror sitting on a table outside the dormitory, reluctantly observing his own reflection, the sight of what stares back causing him to look away after only a few seconds. "Something along those lines."


	12. The Clash And The Advent

Ten minutes Percival has waited for his sister, listening in as her fellow Witches frantically prompted her to leave the room and speak to him, making it clear that she didn't wish to speak to him, but how could he blame her? If he was her, he wouldn't want to speak to him either, not after what he's done, but despite her transparent feelings, he continues to wait outside patiently, eyes focused on the door, or the floor, and even ceiling, but not the mirror,  _never_  that piece of a speculum. Percival is various things and tenacious is one of those variations; when given a task, notably an urgent task, he won't eat, drink or sleep until the task is complete, not that he requires any of those things anymore, but it's the thought that counts. That's when Astrid appears in front of him using  _Transmutation_ , too impatient to use the door, making it clear she wants to get down to business and finish their business as fast as possible, which suits Percival just as much as it suits his sister.  
"Good evening, Miss Godwin."  
"Percival," Astrid sighs, nodding respectfully, although hesitantly. "I thought you were dead."  
"No, I'm far, far from dead, although not from a lack of trying, you didn't exactly come looking for confirmation,  _neither_  of you did, you just accepted the fact and moved on."  
"Can you seriously blame us? Can you really blame us for simply accepting the 'loss' and move on with our lives? Just think for a moment if the roles were reversed, if  _I_ was the one that did what you did, would you come searching for confirmation?"  
"No, I wouldn't, but  _you_ think for a moment, if you were me, you would have lost everything I have, become the thing I've become. If I'm to be honest with you, Miss Godwin, I don't think you could handle everything I've gone through, but in saying that," Percival quickly answers, sighing deeply. "I'm in no position to point fingers at you or anyone for that matter, not about  _not_ looking for confirmation at the very least."  
"Glad we're on the same page then."  
An abrupt, interminable moment of awkward silence erupts between the siblings, making each of them uncomfortable with the short time they've spent actually speaking to one another. Not coveting their silence to emit into conflict, Percival is the first to speak once more, careful as to what to do, what to say and how to look at Astrid.

"We should probably get to business, then?"  
"Excellent idea, so, why don't you spill the beans, Percy? What do you want? No, actually I want my first question to be something much more  _precise_ ; what are you  _doing_ here? Ariel Augustus had a point, it's unlike you to work alongside us, alongside Witches, considering your history with our kind."  
"The reasons behind my  _wary_  alliance with Miss Robichaux's goes far beyond a hefty sum of money, rather, my reasons align with Miss Robichaux's reasons for rising up against the boy; to protect- no, to  _save_ the world. To save billions of lives, friends, family, loved ones, lovers, children especially, to save  _everyone_  from the future that perseveres the status of inevitable as long as Michael Langdon continues to draw breath. You and Elliot know or at least  _should_  very well why I'm doing this,  _who_ I'm trying to protect by doing this, so please, Astrid, don't question my reasons of allegiance."  
" _Something's_  changed in you," Astrid says, glaring at her older brother with uncertainty and regard. "I'm not sure what it is or why, and I sure as hell can't decide whether it's a stable change or not."  
"It's been two years since our last meeting, two years will do that to someone, and considering the last major change of my life was, well, defeating, reasonably some stable change is well-deserved, besides, you're don't have the authority to judge  _positive_ change."  
"I see we're getting off-track here."  
"Yes, I apologize, Miss Godwin, you know why I'm here, but not why I'm  _here_ , Miss Cordelia and Miss Myrtle Snow sent me here to ask you a couple of questions regarding tonight's event, however," Percival groans. "It's unlikely you will enjoy being asked the questions."  
"Nobody likes surveys."  
"You'll find what I'm about to say is much more frustrating than a survey; I and Miss Myrtle Snow noticed you were speaking awfully close to Elliot, so I've been sent here to confirm why, because the Council is concerned you may have told him about our intentions, our plans of war."  
"First of all, the fact they have to ask me that in the first place is insulting, I would never betray the Coven's trust, but I guess, it's better safe than sorry? Regardless of their intent, the question was as you said, frustrating. Second of all, their concerns have been for nothing, I didn't tell Elliot anything regarding the Coven's future conflicts, instead, we were talking about  _you_ , as I mentioned earlier we were surprised to learn that you're actually alive, then we started theorising why you're working with Miss Robichaux's, which you already acknowledged."

"Well, thank you for confirming the concerns were for nothing, Miss Godwin, I appreciate the recognition and I will inform Miss Cordelia and the Council," Percival notifies, bowing his head in respect before his eyes meet Astrid's once more, appear somewhat glassy this time. "I imagine the next time we meet, it'll be after the conflict inescapably begins, so please, enjoy your night, Miss Godwin."  
"Wait!" Astrid calls out, stopping Percival in his tracks as he walks away. "We're not done here."  
"We're not done here? My apologies, Miss Godwin, but I was  _only_ sent here to confirm whether or not the Coven's concerns were appropriate or in vain, nothing else."  
"I want to know why you did what you did, you never revealed why, but I guess- you were never given the chance to reveal why, so I'm not going to be blunt about it, not this time," Astrid hisses, letting out a deep, long breath before speaking her next words. "Why did you kill our grandmother and hurt our family that night? After so many years of nothing, you just came back one day with this wild, vengeful look in your eyes, that's when you grabbed onto our grandmother's throat and strangled her to death. When Elliot tried to stop you, you tossed across the room and broke his shoulder-"  
"I'm going to stop you RIGHT THERE! First of all, she was  _never_ ,  _EVER_ my grandmother, she made that decision for herself the moment she cursed me  _before_ I was even born!" Percival shrieks, startling his sister, who stares at him with tangling eyes, indicating she doesn't know what he's talking about. "Killing her was not just an act of rage, but a seriously prolonged exploit of vengeance."  
"What the fuck are you talking about?!" Astrid ridicules back, crossing her eyes and gritting her teeth.

"Oh, she never told you? Neither did your mother, or even dad? Why would they, right? I mean, dad at least has a fucking excuse, all three of us were young when that fucking drunk driver took him from us, so he never really had the chance to tell you and Elliot what that Witch bitch did in an effort to kill me while I was in my mother's womb. It's quite simple, Astrid, our grandmother hexed me in an effort to kill me all because dad fell in love with my mother when he was supposed to marry yours and for the entirety of my life people I care about have been suffering because of that hex; starting with my mother when she died giving me life, only mere days ago I tore men and women I used to my family apart when they tried to kill me, and then there's- and then there's."  
"Yes, I know."  
"Why- why didn't you and Elliot attend the funeral?" Percival abruptly urges, a single rage-sealed tear rolling down his pale cheek. "I needed both of you, it was the last time I needed my siblings, and you weren't there for me, leaving me alone with the  _other_ family that abhorred me, told me I could have something, that I simply let it all happen."  
"This isn't an excuse, by any means, but the funeral was only a few days after you strangled our grandmother to death, we were still recovering from the shock, the horror and the rage that followed. That and Elliot was still recovering from his broken shoulder."  
"Well, now you know why I did what I did, and to be honest with you, unfortunately, we've only scratched the mere surface of what that black magic manipulated bitch did to me, I fear you'll see what I've truly become soon enough, if you'll see it, that means  _everyone_  else will too. Considering our current circumstances of war, that revelation is inevitable, so once you see what I  _truly_  am, what our grandmother moulded me into," Percival pauses, stepping towards Astrid until he backs is held against the door, his face mere inches away from hers. "Find me and judge me from then on, you will find that those views, the views you've had about me your entire life, for the  _first_  time have indeed become verified _._  Goodnight, dear sister."  
"Percy, wait," Astrid says, fighting the urge to cry as her older brother disappears around the corner, his footsteps become less and less prominent. "Goodnight."

* * *

It's the next morning and Mallory waits out the front of Academy, waiting for Coco, her best friend, to finally arrive after so long of waiting. After feeling the toxic influences of Rager's Fever, Mallory found herself with a long and peaceful rest, but not without the assistance of Kyle, who carried her up the stairs as if she was weightless, Myrtle, who served her a concoction of a peace lily, water and valerian to help her sleep. And last but not least, Cordelia, who laid and ended falling asleep beside her to make sure she relaxed the best she could, and for Mallory, having somebody laying beside her, ensuring that she's safe, well-rested and okay in the end, means the world to her. That's one of the many upon many things she misses about her friendship with Coco; the loyalty, the reliability, the rectitude, as well as the love, the fun and the comfort they shared. Back in the timeline, Mallory had emanated from, she and Coco used to joke about how briskly they grew from acquaintances to best friends like they were in sort of race, Mallory can only hope that they can go through it all over again, that their friendship can exist in this timeline, regardless of the inevitable approach of war.  
"You're awake early," Cordelia states as she exits through the front door of the Academy, a cup of coffee in each hand. "Did you rest well?"  
"I did, thank you for staying with me, it made me feel relaxed knowing somebody had my back."  
"You're a part of Miss Robichaux's, everyone especially me will always have your back, Mallory. Considering you've gone through Hell to get back here and stop everything you've seen from happening again, it's safe to say you've had everyone's back from the start, so don't sell yourself short with that one!" Cordelia giggles, smiling as she holds out a coffee to Mallory. "Here, it'll pick up, God knows I can't go one day without a coffee."  
"I remember you telling me that," Mallory comments, accepting the coffee before glaring back at the front gate. "If was just under more comfortable circumstances."  
"As far as comfortable circumstances go, this could very well be one of if not the last comfortable moment we'll have, considering a conflict against the Apocalypse is fast approaching, so we have to take every moment we can get," Cordelia sighs, sipping at her coffee. "After tonight, after Michael performs the Seven Wonders and we get the girls back, we'll begin preparations, extensive, hard-working training, and then we'll organise our battle plans, how we're going to stop once and for all."  
"And if Ariel and Baldwin get in our way? What will you decide on?" Mallory asks.  
"It's what  _we_ will decide on now, Mallory,  _we're_ both Supremes from different timelines, but our united strength means we're  _both_  in charge of our fellow Witches, as long as we're agreeing on terms. As for Ariel and Baldwin, I think we can both agree on what we  _need_  to do with those cocksuckers, there'll be the first people to stand alongside Michael. However, once Hawthorne learns of their betrayals and assassination attempts on John and Behold, I believe that Ariel and Baldwin, if not the addition of a small supportive group of Warlocks, will be the  _only_ people that stand for Michael. Not only will that give us a huge boost of allies in the form of Hawthorne, therefore, although unnaturally, combining the forces of Witch and Warlock, but it will make our biggest enemy vulnerable, force him to look in the deepest darkest places for allies, that's if he survives that long. One of the greatest elements of our current situation is that never has two Supremes ever co-existed, fought side by side, it's unnatural but nature will catch up eventually, I just hope it's after all of this is over, but until then, we will show those on the wrong side of this war what it's like to face  _two_ Supremes, let alone one."

"Cordelia," Mallory sighs, pulling away from her burning cup of coffee. "I'm so sorry."  
"Now why in Hell would  _you_ be sorry? You have nothing to be sorry about, dear Mallory."  
"Not only did I come to the Academy too early, but this time I came to the Academy as not just a Supreme Witch, but the Supreme Witch to succeed the most transcendent and respectable of all the Supremes. Not some young girl with nowhere to go, no plans for the future, not sure where she fits in the combined world of Magic, Man and Spirit," Mallory pauses, letting go of her cup of coffee yet allowing to drift and softly twirl in place. "But a young woman of utmost power, a power that is yet to be fully understood, focussed into whole power, a 'full extent' if you will, but with all of that utmost power, comes this fear and responsibility. Supreme Witch I may be, but I still require your expertise, your guidance, I still require your many teachings on how to be a leader, so that I may be as transcending and worthy as you, Miss Cordelia. Only then will I truly be able to accept my role as the Supreme of an Academy that will be standing tall and proud once all of this is over, not the ashes of the last timeline."  
"Dear Mallory, until the day I pass from this world you will have my guidance and anything else you require to equip you for your role, once all of this is over, you will be beyond ready, beyond the Miss Robichaux's leader and far, far beyond  _my_ levels of transcendence. You will be a war hero, the Supreme that stood up to the forces of Hell and the Anti-Christ, ultimately stopping the age of the Apocalypse for good."  
"And if you're wrong? If Michael somehow prevails all over again?" Mallory asks, the cup shaking violently at her words, causing coffee to drip and spill from the cup. "What if I'm not strong enough to beat him, what if it's too late."  
"As long as the essence of  _your_  life remains, we will never lose, and I promise you, Mallory," Cordelia delays, letting go of her own cup of coffee and allowing it to levitate alongside Mallory's, watching as the spinning of Mallory's begins to slow down significantly. "I won't let anyone or anything hurt you, not as long as I'm alive, not  _only_ because you're the next Supreme, but because you are and will always be one of us. You're one of my girls, Mallory, one of the daughters I never got the opportunity to have. We love you, Mallory, all of us."

"I love all of you too, I really don't know who I'd be without all of you, my family, by my side. To be honest with you, I was afraid of not feeling the same connection with everyone, that instead, I was going to seclude myself, focus on my cold, unrelenting rage towards Michael until the assignment was completed. If anything, I feel like I have a stronger connection with everyone, that we've been drawn closer together, I've found myself becoming fond of even our latest allies."  
"As I recall, you  _and_  your memories revealed that John and Behold were allies in the last conflict with Michael, but they, alongside the entirety of Hawthorne, were killed and their souls destroyed to prevent any form of revival soon after their departing. Considering the fact that, at least in form, Mr Moore and Mr Chablis are showing interest in Miss Robichaux's and her plans of conflict, whether that's due to the debt they owe you for saving their lives or because they are now eternal allies, shows a lot. You've earned their respect, and that'll prove valuable in our efforts to destroy Michael. As for Mr Theobald-Godwin, he made his aims crystal clear, he's doing all of this for payment and some well-deserved tranquillity, which we will happily provide once all of this is over, make sure nobody returns to his home to make another attempt on his life, however, in saying all of that-"  
"Percival is hiding something in his aims, a secret intention, don't worry, I feel that too," Mallory remarks, feeling the cold breeze against her skin, finding her state of tranquillity once more. "Did Percy stay at the Academy last night?"  
"No, he ended up paying for a hotel room, however, he did check up on you after reporting to us, sat with you for a full ten minutes until I took over. You were restless at first, side effects of the valerian flower, but he didn't leave until he knew for sure that you were asleep and that I was ready to take over, it seems he may have a soft spot for you, Mals," Cordelia explains with a smile before grabbing back onto her coffee. God Mallory missed that nickname, Kyle was the first to call her that, others had quickly followed in his footsteps, but Coco, the best friend she's about to coincide all over again, employed the nickname the most. "And considering the man is a visual representation of a hard spot, I'd take his soft spot as an extraordinary compliment." That's when they both hear the sound of a vehicle approaching the Academy gate. "I believe this is Miss Coco. Are you ready to meet her all over again?"  
"Much, much more than ready," Mallory says with an uneasy tone, her body shaking in excitement as she watches as Coco is escorted out of the limo by their bodyguards. Coco had always told her that her parents always demand the best of the best, it seems they demand the best of their safety too, their security team is twice the size of the Coven Personal Guard, but far, far less skilled. The Coven Personal Guard are trained to oppose, seize and or remove anyone that gets in the way of the Coven, to keep them for a state of certain doom. The members of the Guard are the best of the best, trained for most of their lives to serve until they reach the age of retirement, but the sad truth is, not many of the Guards make it to retirement, so many dangers, especially now.

Mallory speed walks to the gate, almost running but she manages to stop herself from getting too excited, watching as, without warning, Coco's bodyguards find themselves back into the limo and hastily drive away from the Academy, leaving Coco alone at the front gates. Mallory waits until Cordelia is beside her once more before causing the gate to slowly wave open with the flick of her fingers, watching as the noticeable nervous Coco takes small steps towards the gate.  
"You must be Miss St. Pierre Vanderbilt. Welcome to Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies, home and institution for the most extraordinary women in the world! We're quite happy to meet you, my name is Cordelia Goode and this is my associate Mallory Catherine, we, alongside the Academy's Council, are the people to see if you have  _any_ inquiries at all."  
"I'm sorry to keep you waiting, we seemed to have drawn the short straw with traffic, it was a nightmare all the way from California to New Orleans, it was the reason why my family didn't come with me, guess they wanted to play tennis or something, ah, I'm sorry I'm blabbering on, I do that when I'm nervous-"  
"Miss St. Pierre Vanderbilt, you have absolutely no reason to be nervous, you're here with people that will always have your back, people you can call friends, even your family if you feel comfortable enough, I can already tell you have great potential. You have an unorthodox ability, the ability to detect gluten, calories and even danger too, all ability is impressive, I look forward to seeing what else you're capable of."  
"I like you already, Miss Catherine, and to be honest with both of you off the bat, I have this ability to sense things, information or something along those lines, so I can tell that there's something you're both not telling me," Coco informs, cheekily smirking at the women. "Is there a party or some sort of event arranged for tonight?"  
"Um, something like that yes," Cordelia clears her throat, glaring at Mallory with a straight face. "It appears we're going to have step up our game with the mind enchantments, as much as we would have liked to keep it a secret, it seems we can't, the longer Miss Coco is around us, the more she'll discover. So I guess it's best we, or should I say  _you_ reveal everything we know."  
"Guys, I'm right here, I'm sure it's not a big deal, right?" Coco asks, flinching as Mallory takes a step towards her. "Uh, what are you doing?"  
"Hey, uh, look Coco, there's a lot going on here, a lot of shit going down behind the scenes and  _not_ behind the scenes, things are going to happen tonight, tomorrow and only God knows when that will most definitely appear completely out of context, unless I share with you what I know, what I've seen, what I've experienced in 'a last life' as they say," Mallory explains, holding her hand out to Coco. "You can trust me, Coco, if you take my hand, you will know that for sure. Do you trust me?"  
"Yes, I trust you," Coco pauses, slowly and reluctantly taking Mallory's hand, starting the mind-boggling roller coaster that Mallory knows will produce only God knows how many questions. It's not like they have a choice, not only is Coco Mallory's best friend but a valuable ally, what she lacks physically, she makes up with her mind. At the end of the day, Mallory was probably going to do this anyway, regardless of Cordelia's input, she just wouldn't be able to help herself. So why not now, right?


	13. One Shall Awaken, Two Shall Sleep

The very moment nightfall came, the hordes of Hawthorne practically charged through the gates of Miss Robichaux, with Ariel and Baldwin essentially prancing on the red carpet, that comment made by Percival was amusing, but the way his eye surged on Ariel and Baldwin, particularly Ariel, remains to be heart-pounding, uncomfortable and makes his privations clear. Scariest of all, he hasn't even seen since their arrival and since the final debriefing of their plan once they have Madison and Misty, as simple as it would be to kill Michael the moment they have the girls back, at any point the plan could be compromised and what will happen if it is? There are important guidelines they must follow, fail-safes as Kyle described them, if they follow those, the opportunity to kill all three of them will arise naturally, but not before John and Behold fulfil their roles. Ariel walked through the doors of the Academy speculating that Michael was immediately going to begin the completion of the Seven Wonders, revealing that he clearly forgot about the performance's rules and traditions, that the performance isn't a simple play at the local theatre. Cordelia settled that situation just as quickly as it began, especially when she questioned as to where the rest of Ariel's Council is, making it clear that he remains the boss and the Supreme until her departure, careful not to show any form of weakness, which she doesn't need to remind herself, is becoming more and more difficult. She needs to remain strong, not until all of these this is over, not until she has Misty in her arms once more, only then will she allow herself to die; the joys of being the most powerful magic practitioner in the world, at least temporarily. Following the ceremonial initiation, Michael began the Seven Wonders, performing Telekinesis, Transmutation, Divination and Vitalum Vitalis, where he brought a cricket of all things back from the dead, without any form of exertion, now performing Concilium, Michael is making one of his fellow Warlocks slow dance with himself in an unnatural fashion. Michael may be a monster, but his presentation is quite impressive and the abundance of jaws that are dropping really proves that.

The group is spread across the entirety of the room. Mallory and Coco are standing in the crowd of Witches, John and Behold are, of course, sitting somewhere in the attic of the Academy; difficult to forget considering Behold hysterically suggested they set up a bed for him to sleep on, a couch for John to sleep on and a television in there for them to watch Netflix on, considering the amount of time they'll end up spending in there. Kyle is monitoring the crowds with the Coven Personal Guard, ready for any sign of hostility, ready to make take the defensive if required. Cordelia, Zoe, Myrtle Snow and Queenie remain beside their enemy and witnessing their worst enemy yet defile the Seven Wonders, nobody else can see it on their faces, but then again the Witches don't need; the dragging performance is making them extremely uncomfortable, enraged even, but at the same time, they're doing their best job at keeping their cool. Probably the best thing they can do at this very moment. Mallory watches Michael's performance with lasting malice, however, tonight she is much more able to hide the bitterness from her face, to restrain it and assure that it doesn't poison her mind, besides, the sudden presence of Percival standing next to herself and a still bewildered Coco, distracts her enough, causing any sign of toxification to fade away, at least for the time being. Now that Michael has completed Concilium, he has four prescriptions of the Seven Wonders down and two more to go.

"Glad to have you join us," Mallory whispers, getting a small chuckle from Percival, even with a small glance she notices that he stands tall and firm, now wearing a clean, newly bought black suit. It was amazing she didn't notice him step beside her, because, after yet another small glance, she notices some of her fellow Witches ogling the young Warlock, some even visibly salivating over him. That and the Warlocks around them seem to be on edge just by his mere presence alone; no doubt from fear, fear brought upon by the toxic tales Ariel and Baldwin whispered in their many pupils' ears, especially Michael. Comparing Michael to Percival is like comparing fire to ice, darkness to light, all of those, however, Mallory already knows Percival would disagree with. "Assholes."  
"Sorry to keep you waiting, Miss Mallory," Percival apologies, fixing his tie as his eyes reach Coco, who stares back awkwardly. "Um, good evening, Miss Coco. So, um, have I missed anything interesting?"  
"No, not particularly,  _he_ now has two prescriptions of the Seven Wonders left to perform, we're all just waiting for the last prescription," Mallory explains, shrugging her shoulders, however, realising that there's prying Warlock ears all around them. "The grand finale, I suppose, we'll know for sure whether or not he's the Alpha."  
"Right you are, Miss Mallory," Percival smirks, instantly picking up on what Mallory's saying, which she appreciates. "Right you are."  
"So, where were you anyway? Cordelia wasn't sure if you were coming back."  
"I was coming back, I just needed to organise some things, just in case things go south."  
"Such as?" Mallory says, almost choking as she sips on a glass of water. "No weapons right, Percival?"  
"What? No, no, no, I bought a few packets of cigarettes, bottles of booze and some  _other_ consumables, think of it as a kind of fail-safe, besides, if shit goes  _that_  far down South," Percival pauses, glaring at Ariel and Baldwin, who stand impatiently beside Cordelia and her Council, watching as Michael prepares himself for the next prescription; Pyrokinesis. "I won't need any weapons. I've spent a lot of time, fighting off my demons, but everything around me is making the fight difficult, I hope that tonight doesn't end the way I believe it will, that wouldn't be good for anyone, especially myself."  
"We have no doubt about that," Coco scoffs, watching as Cordelia steps forward, followed by Ariel, who appears to be standing on his tiptoes to maintain with Cordelia's height. A shallow display but humorous nonetheless, and by the disconcerted look on Michael's face, for once he seems to be agreeing with his enemy. "For fuck sake."  
"Well, by the end of the night, you should have yourself a smoking buddy in the form of Madison Montgomery, she'll be craving a cigarette once she returns."  
"And I cannot wait to charge her for every cigarette she takes from me."

"Yet another extraordinary performance! Give Michael a round of applause!" Cordelia yells, showing no sign of hesitation, good, suspicion is one less thing to worry about. What follows is the half-assed cheers of the Witches, not that that matters, the cheers of the Warlocks are do loud for the Witches' applauds to be heard; a gift within an inconvenience. "It seems we're onto the fifth prescription of the Seven Wonders; Pryokinesis."  
"I have no doubt in my mind that our dear Michael is  _more_ than capable of completing this task," Ariel chuckles, giving a smug smile to the crowd and even to Michael, who is visibly reluctant to show any form of reply. It seems even "Shall we get straight to it then?"  
"Don't worry, Mr Augustus, this spell takes absolutely," Michael pauses, jolting his arms and causing the entirety of his hands to set aflame, releasing a beautiful black blaze, a fire that surprisingly enough, doesn't make anyone flinch or even show any sign of discomfort, rather the opposite in fact. Michael's impatience is starting to show, the sheer wants to finish the Seven Wonders is clouding his judgement, his emotions and his actions; impatience and arrogance have always been Michael's weakness, nothing could change that. "Zero effort."  
The sight of the black fire causes Percival to flinch, his eyes shuttering and fists clenching in what Mallory can only assume as discomfort, or maybe even fear? Mallory is the one to speak first, however in a whisper, knowing very well what everyone in the room is staring at in their trance-like states. There truly is only  _one_  type of flame that is cold until you touch it, once you touch it, however, it's a totally different story, something Mallory and Cordelia have learnt quite well when reviving Myrtle Snow. "Hellfire."  
"Yes, I'd know that fire from anywhere," Percival comments, feeling Mallory's probing eyes immediately on top of him. "Miss Mallory, you'd be quite surprised where my career as a mercenary sometimes led to; a  _cult_ at some point during my time, some blood magic manipulators, demons, people that called themselves the Afflicted that are the closest thing to a vampire that you'll ever see. Some real fucking  _freak_   _shows_  out there, at some point during my career I encountered such a flame and it's terrifying."  
"That's the first time I've ever seen you scared of something, Percival, so be careful, I might begin to think that you're  _not_ invincible after all."  
" _Anyone_  in their right mind should be terrified of Hellfire, it is said to be one of  _two_ things in this world," Percival pauses, letting out a deep exhale as if he's trying to calm his nerves of steel. "That can kill anything and everything."

As the fire retreats back into the crevices of his skin, the Warlocks erupt into another round of applause, this one much louder than the former, with some of the Warlocks terming Michael's name at the top of their lungs. Mallory likes to think that Michael is using Concilium to manipulate the Warlocks into boosting his self-esteem to ferocious levels, anything to boost his morality, but at the same time, Mallory  _also_ likes to think that the Warlocks are just  _that_ fucking simple-minded that they truly accepted the Anti-Christ among their ranks. Mallory isn't sure if she wants that question answered, but already knowing Ariel and Baldwin's blind intentions, the question is practically answered. As the applause finally begins to die down, Cordelia steps forward, clearing her throat before speaking, articulating less than enthusiastically and appearing somewhat flustered, exhausted and in some serious need for some wine.  
"Before the final performance of the Seven Wonders, why don't we all take a break, get something to eat and drink while the final preparations are made for Descensum? We shall return in ten minutes for Michael's final performance, the literal moment the truth, the moment that will tell us whether or not a new Alpha Warlock will reign Supreme, protector of the worlds of Magic, Man and Spirit. Please continue to enjoy our hospitality, Hawthorne, and I will see all of you shortly."  
The moment Cordelia finishes her sentence, the majority of the crowd diverges back into their separate groups, with only a few pairs of Witches and Warlocks, including Percival's siblings, keeping the company of one another. The diversion is only natural, Witches and Warlocks can  _only_  accept their forceful unity for so long, and by the looks on their faces, the diversion is more than esteemed. After a short consultation between the Council of Miss Robichaux's and Hawthorne, Cordelia, Zoe, Queenie and Myrtle Snow begin to gather themselves, calling out to the group without the use of words. Noticing the calling, Mallory and Coco begin walking towards the group to ultimately join them, but as Mallory scans back, she watches as Percival walks in a different direction; towards the collection of unlit candles.  
"Percy? Where are you going?"  
"Kyle and the Coven Personal Guard have worked all afternoon and night, they deserve a break, so I'm going to set up and light the candles for them," Percival explains, letting out a small smile. "Go, enjoy your break, I'll deal with this part. Oh, and Mallory?"  
"Yes?" Mallory asks.  
"Make sure you tell Kyle that if he even tries to touch these candles instead of relaxing, I'll break his fingers."  
"Okay," Mallory giggles before turning away and walking towards the group. "Sure thing."

Joining her friends, Mallory finds herself comfortably in a seat, only for Kyle to sneak up behind her, startling her with a soft boo before passing her a can of Coke. Kyle had brought everyone, including himself, a bunch of refreshments.  
"Oh my god, Kyle, you're an absolute lifesaver!" Mallory gasps, giggling alongside Zoe.  
"In more ways than one, Mals!" Zoe agrees, accepting a can of Dr Pepper from her fiance. "Thank you, my love."  
"I mean, the majority of you were grumbling that there was a serious lack of sugar in the fridges, so I've brought gifts for all of you; of course a Coke for Mallory and a disgusting Dr Pepper for my poor Zoe," Kyle teases, raising an eyebrow with a smile and barely missing a playful punch from Zoe. "Too slow! Alright, so, I've brought a Diet Mountain Dew for Queenie-"  
"Thank you, Sir," Queenie says, opening the can using Telekinesis before taking a sip. "Hell yeah."  
"I wasn't sure what you liked, Miss Coco, so I brought you the last can of Diet Pepsi if that will suffice. To be perfectly honest with you, I was thinking about making a hot cup of cocoa, but you know, that was a lot of effort for a joke."  
"Your senses have told you right, Kyle," Zoe comments, barely able to fight off the urge to smile in embarrassment, forcing her to whisper her next words. "Fucking goofball."  
"Thank you, Mr Spencer, for the drink, I appreciate that very much," Coco smiles, the sight causing Mallory to smile. Mallory was surprised to see Coco's reaction to being shown their future, the future that has already been, the future where the world ended and they lost. Coco was startled at first, as everyone would be, talking and asking a lot of questions, which isn't out of the ordinary for her, but her questions were surprising to the point, not skipping any important detail regarding their friendships, their future and how they can stop it. Within a moment, Coco explicated the bravery and devotedness that was always hidden inside of her, looking prepared to do what is necessary to stop the apocalypse before easing back into her shell of shyness and modesty. Mallory, as she did in the last timeline, loves her already, and notably, everyone is finding themselves in the same form of closeness this time around, if not an ampler form of closeness. "And please, call me Coco."  
"I've also brought a glass of champagne for Miss Myrtle, I ordered it a few nights ago because if anyone deserves to have their thirst quenched it is you, Ma'am," Kyle chuckles, placing a glass of champagne onto the table. "The bottle I bought is a Dom Perignon 2008 Vintage Champagne, quite expensive stuff, but Zoe and I never got you a, um, what should I call it? 'Welcome Back To The Land Of The Living' present?"  
"It's not every day somebody gets one of those presents, Miss Myrtle," Queenie adds. "Expensive champagne is what I'd want too, or a Carl's Jr burger, each to their own, I guess."  
"From the title alone, that does sound fancy," Mallory comments, mouth watering at the sight of the luxurious drink.  
"Oh trust me, Mals, my parents used to buy it all the time, but even now it's only for special occasions," Coco concisely explains.  _Mals_? God Mallory missed that. "It's one of the fancy ones indeed."  
"Oh, dear Kyle, you didn't need to buy me anything, darling, your presence is a present enough," Myrtle Snow smiles before taking a sip of the champagne. "Oh, your efforts have resulted in a serious taste in champagne, darling. Excellent choice."  
"I'm very happy to hear that you like it. For you, Miss Cordelia, I have brought you a glass of ice cold Cola, but fear not," Kyle pauses, glancing to see if Ariel and Baldwin are being creepy and watching them, thankfully they aren't. He whispers his next words to his Supreme, his mentor and his mother figure. "I've mixed the Cola with some red wine, but  _only_  one of the best red wines I could get my paws on, Château Mouton Rothschild Pauillac 2010. Not sure how it'll taste with the Cola but everything's worth a shot, right? It seemed like you could use a drink that isn't devoid of luxury."  
"It's delicious," Cordelia smirks, the first smile that she's made all night, well, a smile that wasn't forced at least. By the end of the night, the group hopes, she'll won't be able to stop smiling, especially once they have Madison and Misty Day back from Hell. "Thank you, Kyle."  
"I brought a drink for Percival too, but I can't help but notice he's gone ahead and began setting up the candles for the last performance? I know he's not trying to be romantic for me, so, what  _is_ up with that?" Kyle asks, glaring back at Percival, who's both calm and collective as he gathers the appropriate amount of candles for the preparation. "I thought that was our job? I and the CPG, I mean."  
"Yeah, Percy said that you guys deserve a break, you've been working all night so you deserve some R&R, even if it's short-lived," Mallory explains, seeing the consideration in his eyes. "He also added that if you even  _think_ about helping him out with the candles, he'll break your fingers."

"Okay, well, seems I'm going to have broken fingers, however, nothing a bit of magic won't help," Kyle pauses, glaring back at the group with a concerned look. "Hey, look, I've been thinking about what's about to happen, the plan is, well, you know what the plan is, but how do we  _know_ for sure that he's going to bring them back? In the last timeline, he brought them back  _just_ to catch the attention of Miss Cordelia, but this time around, he already has the attention he wants, all he has to do is go in and out of Hell, which will take what? A blink? A breath? A heartbeat maybe? What makes us think he's going to fall in with our assumptions?"  
"Because before the initiation of the Seven Wonders, I had a conversation with Michael, warning him about the risks associated with Descensum," Cordelia begins explaining, whispering to the group. "I instructed him to simply find himself in and out of Hell, not to explore his surroundings, not to do anything ill-advised, something of which he didn't seem to relish. I highly,  _highly_  doubt he's going to listen to the instructions of a woman, let alone a Supreme Witch, the woman currently above him in the food chain, his competition. No, following the instructions of an enemy will fade away from his ego, he'd rather fuel his ego and do what he pleases, from what I've seen at least. Is that correct, Mallory? You know more about him than the rest of us combined, so, Supreme to Supreme, do you think he's going to fall for the bait?"  
"Honestly, I have absolutely no doubt in my mind that he will fall for the bait, especially with the addition of your instructions; if he's going to take the title away, he's going to do it in the most dramatic way imaginable. So yes, Michael is going to fall for the bait and we're going to get  _our_ girls back."

Ariel and Baldwin stand with Michael and their most esteemed students, sipping on cold beverages, some of which crept in alcoholic beverages, and eating the snacks provided by the Coven Personal Guard, men and women you'd swear were made from molten iron; no matter what you say to them, they just stare at you with cold blanketed eyes, eyes that would kill you in a heartbeat if looks could kill. The lightest of the bunch is, of course, Kyle, who shows compassion and enjoyment for his job but also shows a profound form of professionalism, which has been noted by the Warlocks, especially Michael. The small group is quiet, talking amongst themselves and only amongst themselves, even ignoring Warlocks outside of the group, Warlocks not as esteemed as themselves, but the Warlocks outside of the group don't seem bothered. As Baldwin talks quietly to Michael and his other students, Ariel turns to find Percival, an inexorable smile finding itself to his face, something of which Michael remarks right away, but says nothing. For Michael, unlike the Warlocks, the Witches around him have been difficult to read, both spiritually and emotionally, with the Warlocks reading them was like opening a giant picture book, but the Witches, reading them has just about been impossible. However, of all Miss Robichaux's supposed allies, this strange looking man, Percival Theobald-Godwin, has been the most mysterious; physically he appears quite powerful, he's reserved, passive but somewhat passive-aggressive at the same time, he's collective it seems, taking in every detail around him the same as Michael, monitoring for absolutely anything abnormal in a crowd of dozens upon dozens. Sure, Michael was told about him in grim detail, but the more he stares at this mysterious, the more he begins to believe that Ariel's story about him is one-sided? Prejudiced? Is bigoted the word?  _Biased_ , Michael decides on, but maybe this layer of this Percival is simply the outer layer, the protective layer of his inner being, and when Michael thinks about it, not once has he seen this Percival guy use any form of magic, but yet, he's supposed to be a Warlock, a Warlock with volatile, almost unmatched power and a Warlock who killed one of Ariel, Baldwin, as well as the now deceased Councilmen, John Henry Moore and Behold Chablis' most esteemed Warlocks with the flick of the wrist, tearing out his inners through his mouth in a fit of rage. As much as it would be wise to stop Ariel from antagonizing this stranger, Michael wants to use this moment to study the stranger too, find out what he's dealing with in case it comes to a fight. So, Michael watches as Ariel slips away from Baldwin's watchful eye and into the proximity of Percival, who has just finished setting up the candles in a perfect circle, a smile happily perched on his wicked pale lips.

"This can't be good," Astrid, Percival's younger sister states, pointing out Ariel as he begins staggering towards Percival as she sits beside her brother, Elliot. "We should say something, well, technically I should, considering it's your Grand Chancellor that's about to cause trouble."  
"Why the fuck should  _we_ say something?! We'd only be helping Percy, and from what I remember that bastard broke my shoulder, strangled our grandmother until her fucking eyes popped out of her head and threatened to kill our mother if she said anything to the authorities, or have you forgotten all of that?!"  
"Oh, fuck you, Elliot."  
"Why are you suddenly defending him? Last night you calling him everything under the damn sun, now, only a night later, you're defending the bastard brother who killed one of the women who raised us and made us who we are today, so spill the beans. Why are you defending him now?" Elliot asks, his face becoming red from the fuming rage. "I want to know."  
"Can't I tell you what I know later, after I speak to Miss Cordelia? She outta' know what's about to go down, Percival has thick skin, but he will give into Ariel's antagonizing eventually, we both know that, so just let me do that, yeah?" Astrid suggests, almost thinking about forcing her brother to slam his head into the wall using Concilium, but she fights the ever-lasting urge. "I'll tell you everything after, okay?"  
"Yeah, fine, but hurry the fuck up, will you? You've got me seriously curious now, anything about our brother is like gold to me."  
"I'm quite aware, Elliot, I won't be long," Astrid says before she begins walking to Cordelia, the woman she probably trusts the most in this world. "She'll know what to do."

"I recalled you saying were managing the security detail?" Ariel asks Percival, causing the young man to turn around and face his former mentor, his sworn adversary. "I hope I'm not recalling wrongfully, that would make me look like a fool now, wouldn't it?"  
"Mr Augustus," Percival esteems smoothly, giving out a small bow of respect, forced respect. "I apologize for my lack of presence during the majority of the performances, but I do hope the hospitality is in order? Are you enjoying your night at Miss Robichaux's?"  
"The hospitality is without complaint actually, Miss Robichaux's has surprised me, considering they don't get many guests after all of the nonsense with the reporters and interviews finally died down, but alas, the Academy remains to be in an astonishing state," Ariel chuckles, sitting on a glass of Diet Coke mixed with Maker's Mark. The truth is that Percival can tell there's alcohol in the glass just by sight alone, no need for the use of smell; the perks of being an alcoholic. More notably, with each sip, Percival can see that Ariel is becoming drunk, which in the end, he can tell, won't be good. All he needs to do right now is absolutely keep his calm, otherwise, he doesn't know what  _will_  happen, only what  _can_. After all, he's mostly there for security reasons, at the moment at least. "And, if you truly wish to know, I'm quite enjoying myself, seeing Michael knock the Seven Wonders has been quite the spectacle, it's a shame it's not  _you_ up there and making us proud, but then again-"  
"Things can change and so can people's futures."  
"They certainly can, can't they?" Ariel questions. "You never answered my question, you know? You said you were managing security detail alongside the CGP or whatever the fuck they call those cold sons of bitches, but here you are, setting up candles for Michael's final performance? How nice of you, dear Percival."  
"I just thought that Kyle and his team could use an interim, I mean, they've been operating so hard all night and they deserve the break, even if it's a swift one."  
"I never expected such generosity and compassion from  _something_ like you, Percival, you're actually nabbing me, where was this wonderment when you attended Hawthorne?" Ariel chuckles, clearly trying to get under Percival's skin, he seems kinda' disappointed that he hasn't already. "Perhaps if you showed this type of wonderment in your younger years, you wouldn't have been such a disappointment to me, maybe you wouldn't have failed to light a candle."  
"Ugh, I think I complimented the headmaster quite well actually, wouldn't you agree, Mr Augustus?" Percival asks, with a small chuckle following his shot back. That's when he leans towards Ariel, his jaw clenched before he speaks his next words. "I'll tell you a secret, Terrible Warlock to Worse Warlock, I mastered my volatile power,  _it_ no longer has power over me, all I needed was some solitary time and voilà, I became the Alpha of my own power, these days you'd be surprised about what I can do."  
"Interesting secret you have there, dear Percival, but I have one of my own. Would you like to hear it?"  
"Sure, I hope it's an interesting one."  
"Oh, trust me, it's quite interesting indeed, my secret is; I know why I haven't seen you use any magic since being there, I know why there have only been glances of your power. The lights dimming out, I've never seen anything like that happen around anyone but you, and it's starting to make sense the closer I get to you," Ariel whispers, his words causing Percival's heart to sink into his stomach. "I can feel the aura of your magic, just like everybody else's, your aura sits in the proximity of your  _heart_ , yet, the aura is powerful but the signal is muffled, difficult to feel, as if there's something wrong with your heart. However, there's  _another_  aura of your magic where there shouldn't be; on your  _mind_. So I was thinking to myself, why would there be another aura on your mind? But then it all came to me; you can't use magic because there's a charm on your mind, making you incapable of using magic, but there's more to it than that, right? I'm a curious man and I usually get what I want, so I want to find out why you've put a charm on your mind, dear Percival."  
"Please, don't," Percival says, almost sounding like he's begging for mercy.  
"I already have."

Without warning, Ariel manages to place his hand on Percival's forehead, using his own spellcraft to remove the charm from Percival's mind, causing a flood of recollected memories, beautiful, terrible and horrifying memories, causing Percival to scream at the top of his lungs as he falls to his knees, ultimately seizing the attention of everyone around him. The Witches look at Percival with serious concern, especially his younger sister, who blames herself for not being fast enough to notify Cordelia before this could happen. The Warlocks watch Percival with curiosity and delight, especially his younger brother, who smiles at the sight of his older brother in anguish. The sound of Percival's scream sends the entire group to their feet, all of them gazing at what Ariel is doing to him with unrelenting rage. It takes Kyle to restrain Zoe, Myrtle Snow to restrain Queenie and Coco to restrain Mallory; if it wasn't for Kyle, Myrtle Snow and Coco, Ariel would be already dead, without any doubt in their mind. However, it seems they won't have to, as Ariel lets go of Percival, Percival slowly stares up at Ariel, a look of endless bloodlust in his eyes.  
"See? It wasn't that b-"  
Without his own warning, a shadowy ghost-like figure, appearing as a hideously disfigured undead man, launches itself out of Percival's physical form, moving at supernatural speed as it grips onto Ariel's neck and slams him hard into the wall, the impact causing the whole to shake for a brief second. Once the ghost-like figure stops moving, Percival begins moving at a high speed in the same manner, reconnecting with the figure and becoming a whole physical form once more. Baldwin, Michael and the other esteemed students attempt to intervene, but Percival acts first, using Telekinesis to freeze everyone, including Michael, in place. The display of the first use of his power takes  _everyone_  off-guard, causing a few gasps, Michael, Cordelia and Mallory, the most powerful people in the room, are included in those taken off-guard. That's when his eyes move back at the terrified Ariel, who struggles desperately to breathe.  
"I fucking warned you, Ariel, which is something I never fucking do," Percival sighs, jaw clenching as facial scars begin to appear from nowhere, as if they were invisible to the naked eye, until now. An abundance of small but vicious facial scars and a large vicious claw-like scar alongside his left eye are the finished product, making him all the more terrifying for Ariel, the helpless victim to Percival's fury. "You shoulda' listened to me, you pathetic piece of shit! You wanted power, right?! Well, you haven't seen anything yet, so how's that for power, HUH?!"

"PERCIVAL!" Cordelia calls out, her voice itself almost causing the room to shake. "LET GO OF HIM AT THIS VERY INSTANT!"  
"Yes, my Supreme," Percival obliges without argument, softening the grip on Ariel's throat and allowing him to slide down the wall as he supports his body, the freshness of the air causes Ariel to choke, almost causing him to throw up on the wooden tiles. After letting go of Ariel, Percival releases his much softer grip on the others frozen in place, allowing Baldwin to attend to his practically suffocating, pathetic colleague. Michael, however, stands firm and calm, watching Percival and glaring at his facial scars, now knowing the type of power he's dealing with but noting that he's only scratched the surface of Percival's ferocious, seemingly  _demonic_  capabilities, something that impresses him without any doubt. His eyes move to Cordelia, her face red and jaw clenched, infuriated at everything that just went down, especially on her property, in her Academy, in her home, and Percival fell for Ariel's bait just as Ariel wanted him to, however, they both didn't know it was going to end with an  _Awakening_  of all things.  
"THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE BEHAVIOUR, MR THEOBALD-GODWIN! UNACCEPTABLE AND APPALLING! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE PROTECTING OUR GUESTS, SLAMMING THEM INTO WALLS OR STRANGLING THEM! NONE OF IT!"  
"Yes, Miss Cordelia," Percival agrees, bowing his head in submission to the Supreme,  _his_ Supreme as he'd recently said. The truth is, Cordelia isn't enraged at him at all, no, but she doesn't show any sign of irritation from his actions, it'll seem to the Warlocks that he'll be getting away with his actions. Which, he technically will be. "I apologize to Hawthorne and Miss Robichaux's for my unacceptable behaviour, I never meant to react the way I did, with permission from you, Miss Cordelia, I would like to go outside and calm down."  
"You have permission, Mr Theobald-Godwin," Cordelia agrees, helping Ariel back to his feet alongside Baldwin and the other students. "Come back when you feel like you're not going to strangle anybody and until then.  
"Yes, Miss Cordelia," Percival says, walking towards the exit of the Academy, only to stop, glance back and hold his hand out. Within a blink and with the use of Pyrokinesis, Percival lights each and every candle for Michael's final performance, before making his quick getaway outside the Academy and into the fresh air. Ultimately allowing himself access to the cigarettes and booze he left in his car. "At least I know  _something_  has my back."

"That was fucking intense," Coco whispers, letting go of Mallory now that Cordelia stepped into the scene that sorted it all out, again proving that she remains the boss. "Is everything always that fucking intense? Or is it just Percival?"  
" _Neither_ , Coco, what everyone just watched Percival do he's never done before, I mean, he's lashed out before but that was the first time we've seen him use any form of magic, let alone magic in a form like  _that_. I don't believe  _anyone_  in this room has seen such a display of powerful magic, I know I haven't," Mallory explains, her heart still pounding against her rib cage. "Fuck, I wanna' check up on him."  
"I imagine all of us do, but we can't," Kyle whispers as he continues to tend to his fiance before checking subtly checking up on everyone. "Not until the performance is complete and we have our girls back, which I imagine Cordelia will be getting to any second now, shouldn't be too long and everything will be in order. Patience, Mals."  
"I know, I know."  
"If dear Percival can handle a Warlock Grand Chancellor, then he's going to be just fine, he just needs some time to collect himself," Myrtle Snow states with confidence, caressing Queenie's hair which assists in calming her down. "However, I imagine he's going to answering a lot of questions once he returns."  
"Zoe and I have been Witches for pretty much the same amount of time unless she's gone on some crazy adventure without her sister?" Queenie asks, receiving a head shake from Zoe, who is still being calmed down by Kyle, who for once, is the calmest one out of the two, although he's barely able to fight the urge to go full rage mode on Ariel, Baldwin and especially Michael. "Then it's safe to say  _we_  haven't seen anything even close to Percival's display."  
"Let's be quiet, Cordelia is about to speak," Zoe quickly says, finding herself back to her feet and straightening her composure alongside Queenie and Myrtle Snow, refurbishing her form as a member of the Witch Council. "Queenie, Myrtle and I will be back shortly."

"I myself want to apologize for Mr Theobald-Godwin's behaviour, it was unacceptable and it'll never, and I mean  _never_  happen again. I hope that I make that crystal clear," Cordelia says, staying asserted and immovable. "I think the best thing we can do is move onto the final performance if you still feel comfortable doing that. I believe break time is long over at this point so, Michael?" Cordelia asks, catching Michael's still quiet, relaxed attention. "Shall we?"  
"We shall," Michael says, raising his chin confidently as he begins walking towards the circle of light candles without Ariel and Baldwin by his side, only to then stop inches away from the entrance of the circle. "I would like to say something before I perform the final prescription. After this final performance, I will be taken away the title and responsibility of Supreme from your hands, transitioning the title from Supreme to Alpha Supreme. However, as a thank you for protecting the worlds of Magic, Man and Spirit, I will be bringing back a gift from Hell, maybe even  _two_ gifts if you're all lucky enough, I have confidence that this next prescription will be a breeze just like the ones before it. Thank you for allowing me to perform the Seven Wonders and I promise I will do this world proud, further it into the form that it has always been destined to become, so thank you, all of you. Alright, I am ready to begin the final performance, Miss Cordelia."  
Mallory focuses on Michael's words, his movements, the ballsy clues to his true intentions, what he has in store for the world he'd be supposed to protect if he was, in fact, the 'Alpha Supreme'. However, the more she focuses on Michael, the more she begins to realise that she can still hear words, yet his mouth isn't moving, no, they're not his words at all, they're his thoughts. Mallory has  _Telepathically_ crept into his mind, she can hear his thoughts and feel into his emotions, which is not only power she's never experienced before, but it could probably be the worst thing that can happen to her; being in the mind of the person she hates the most in this world, what a curse. "I don't like this, I don't like this at all."

"And so you are," Cordelia agrees, watching as Michael wastes no time entering the circle and laying down, hands crossed over his chest like a vampire. That's when she leans down, ready to give Michael one  _final_ suggestion, not that she has to, considering the 'gifts' he will be bringing them once he returns. Nevertheless, if he  _somehow_ dies down there, the world is saved sure, but at the same time, Cordelia loses their  _one_ chance to get their girls back, as selfish as that is, it absolutely  _needs_ to be done. "Remember, you want to go in and out, that's  _all_ you need to do, Michael, be smart about what you do down there. Every. Second. Counts."  
"I hate to say it, dear Michael, but I do agree with Miss Cordelia," Ariel adds, finding a snarky look from Michael, making it clear that he's quickly becoming tired of control-freak Ariel. "Don't risk your life, for anything."  
"As she said,  _all_ you're required to do is enter and exit Hell," Baldwin also adds, getting the same look from his prized student. "Following those instructions is the smartest move you can possibly do, just think, what would  _we_ do?"  
"Miss Cordelia, Mr Augstus and Mr Pennypacker, if I go in and out of Hell, I won't be able to follow through with my gifts and I  _always_ follow through with my promises," Michael chuckles, licking his lips. "I'd hate to offend my mentors, but I guess we'll  _all_ see where my journey takes me."  
"Are you ready?" Cordelia asks her enemy one last time.  
"I am," Michael smirks before closing his eyes, a smile perched onto his mouth and he begins his words, Mallory finds herself feeling light-headed and vertigo. "Spiritu duce, in me est."  
"Oh man," Mallory sighs, feeling like she's going to faint. She begins to realise what's happening to her and it's  _nothing_ good.  
"Spiritu duce, in me est."  
"Mallory?" Coco asks, noticing her friend struggling to stand up straight, something even the people around her begin to notice. "Are you okay?"  
"Deduc me in tenebris vita ad extremum, ut salutaret inferi."  
"No, no, no, no, this isn't happening, this can't be happening," Mallory mutters, feeling her mind begin  _descending_  alongside Michael's. "Not with him, anyone but him."  
"Deduc me in tenebris vita ad extremum, ut salutaret inferi."  
"Oh fuck," Coco whispers, watching as Mallory begins to faint, only to be caught by Percival, more specifically his shadowy ghost-like form only moments before the  _real_ Percival appears, rejoining with his ghostly form. "How did you know?"  
"I heard her heartbeat," Percival whispers, placing Mallory softly on the ground. "What's happening to her?!"  
" _Descensum_."


	14. The Competitor, The Monster, The Benefactor

After closing his eyes and speaking the magic words, Michael reopens them, finding himself in familiar territory, territory not his own  _but_  familiar nonetheless. An empty, gloomy classroom, desks and chairs perfectly patterned in, nearly deprived of  _all_  life, except for a single pot plant on the window sill. The truth is, Michael already read into the death of Misty Day and the disappearance, yet, supposed death of Madison Montgomery, onerous stuff to read, not that Michael is bothered about any of that. Misty Day's reason for death was on the report, well, Miss Robichaux's report, at least; failed to rebound from Hell during Descensum, a dull way to die in Michael's conviction. Misty solely wasn't cut out for the Seven Wonders but admirably, but weakly, she died for it, however, Madison Montgomery was different, she only failed a single prescription, Divination. Her death persists as a mystery, at least on the reports, but Michael solved it in an instant; the moment one of the Witches cited Madison's name, Kyle Spencer, the great lout that currently prohibits the Coven Personal Guard, tensed up  _every_ time. All it necessitated was for him to put two and two together and voila, Madison Montgomery's rigid and ostensibly guilt-riddled killer, if the tales Michael has heard are, in fact, accurate, then Michael murdered her in an elegant fit of rage. Michael smirks at the sight and thought, even snickers a little just to hear it reverberate through the threshold and into the endless, inescapable halls of the endless, inescapable school. He chuckles again.  
"Never gets fucking old," Michael says, staring around the empty classroom as he heads towards the hallway. "What a shit hole, I can appreciate why this is Hell for dear Misty Day, if I had to attend this shit hole, I would have just burnt it to the ground."  
"Charming, really, but ill-considered," a female's voice announces from behind him, prompting him to whirl around and overlook an overall disoriented-looking Mallory, who gazes around her surroundings like she's never attended a school before in her life. "But I'll give it to you, you got it right when you called this place a shithole."  
"Mallory?! How the fuck- what are you- this is impossible?! You shouldn't have been able to travel with me, so how did you?!" Michael screams, each word from his powerful voice resounding through the infinite halls, something that would cause most people to flinch, but Mallory stands her ground. She may be in Hell with the person she hates the most in this world, but at least she's not scared of him, any form of fear has been completely swallowed by her desire to strangle him with his insides. "Tell me, Mallory!"

"Don't  _you_ dare raise your voice at me, Michael Langdon! I've done nothing wrong I don't have a fucking clue as to why I'm here with you, when you started Descending I felt light-headed like I was going to faint. I did because here I am," Mallory reveals, raising her hands outwards. "Dragged to the depths of Hell with Michael Langdon. I don't know the true reason behind it but like you, I reasonably want to figure that out, but not  _right_ at this instant, we have to figure out how we're going to get out of this mess first."  
"My apologies for snapping at you, Miss Catherine, it's just, the fact that you're in danger is just making me remarkably nervous." Lies, all of his words and so-called concerns are lies, Mallory means nothing to him, he'd sacrifice her life in a blink just to see her decay, full of terror and agony. To be supremely fair about the situation, Mallory would commit the same atrocity without question, as long as she got to see Michael die, that fact alone clouds her judgement and she hates it. "I know we're on opposite sides of the Magic world, but  _you_ have to trust  _me_ on this, Miss Catherine. I can get us out of here but I'm not ready to leave yet, I still have some items to purchase Hell's little gift shop, but now considering there's two of us, I'm not entirely sure if our time as been halved or doubled. I don't know about you, but I'd rather not stick around and find out the answer to that and be caught with our dicks in our hands. Sorry, that was a terrible figure of speech."  
"Look, I'm not following what you're saying," Mallory sighs, acting clueless and dense around her biggest enemy's intentions, ultimately deceiving him. He rolls his eyes and raises an eyebrow in reaction, clearly not wanting to explain everything to a 'simple', as the Warlocks like to call the Witches. "I got that the gift shop comment was sarcasm and I couldn't help but notice you mentioned Misty Day's name, which indicates that we're in  _her_ Hell, right? How is that possible? And why are we here in the first place instead of  _your_ Hell?"  
"You pick up sharper than I foresaw, Miss Catherine, I admire that, it'll make our chances of surviving this situation much more all-embracing. As for the reason behind our current situation, would you believe me if I said that  _I_ don't have a Hell? That I've tried my absolute best to find it, but with zero luck?" Michael asks, chuckling to himself, finding a quick head shake in response by Mallory. "No, I didn't think so, it's so unbelievable, right? Everyone has a Hell, not me, turns out I have a rare gift of being able to travel to the Hells of others and an even rarer gift of being able to bring things  _back_  from those Hells, living things included."

"Look, I'm not going to support that statement or say that you're lying or anything like that, but I am going to ask you, Michael," Mallory pauses, but only for a moment, not wanting to glare at him for too long, in fear of becoming entranced in his eyes. "Have you performed such a feat? Or is this all a big fucking theory?"  
"I've brought locusts and ravens back to the land of the living more than a dozen times, you can trust- well, you can trust me on  _this_ , at least, Miss Catherine. If you haven't guessed already, the reason behind why we're here is because-"  
"The gift you were talking about giving Miss Robichaux's before performing Descensum is Misty Day-"  
"Not  _just_ Misty Day, but Madison Montgomery as well, once  _we_  secure Misty Day, I'll transfer us to Madison's own Hell, hopefully, that will give us some extra time, once we're there we can then secure her and be out before our time is up so we don't suffer a similar fate to poor Misty," Michael pauses, glaring back at Mallory with those folded, curious eyes. "I don't know about you but I don't feel disintegrating and finding myself trapped in somebody else's Hell, especially this piece of shit people would call a school. How does that sound,  _Mallory_?"  
"We get to save two fellow Witches  _and_ end tonight with our souls still attached to us? Can't argue with that plan," Mallory says,  _almost_ finding herself jeering at the proposal. She has to admit, Michael is charismatic and to such a degree, there have been flashes where Mallory has overlooked that she's standing beside her greatest nemesis and the world's greatest fulmination. As much as she loathes the idea of having to esteem him, in this prevailing circumstance, even with her level of potential, the potential she's yet to thoroughly grasp, she has no choice but to trust him. Hell remains to be  _his_ territory, not her own, she's intimate with the land of the living while he's intimate in the land of the deceased. "So, how do we find Misty? By the sound of our echoing voices, the halls won't have an end, completely inescapable for poor Misty, but she must be in a specific room, right? It won't be easy, but we'll find her, no matter what happens, we'll find her." With the aid of the demon's droning in his ear, that is.  
"With the two of us, I have no-" Before Michael can finish what he's saying, there's a harrowing, echoing, weakening, soliciting scream from one of the distant rooms, the mere sound would cause anybody  _else_ to freeze up, but not them, instead, they begin running down the halls at full speed. "It seems our perceptions have come to precisions!"

"Shut the fuck up, Langdon! We're going to lose the echoing!" Mallory snaps, hushing herself and centring the totality of her mind, her Telepathy included, on the source of the echoing, which is profoundly challenging while racing down a hallway. However, before she can concentrate on the reverberation, it abruptly disappears, as if it doesn't want to be found, either that or the direction behind Misty's Hell doesn't want it to be found. "Shit, maybe I should have worn my running shoes?"  
"We shouldn't blame ourselves, we didn't lose it, no,  _something_ is trying to hide it from us, I can-  _feel_ it," Michael pauses, stopping in his tracks, eyes closing as Mallory begins to face him. He's probably trying to hide his dark, blackened demon eyes from her as he searches for Misty, at least in Mallory's mind. "Give me a second, maybe I can find her, I just need some time to focus my energy."  
"How much time do you need, freaky man? We're not exactly full of time at this very moment-"  
"Then we're just going to have to secure her swiftly then, aren't we?" Michael growls with a smirk, clearly entertained by Mallory, if only she could say the same. "I've found her, she was hidden behind a powerful  _taciturnity_  spell, seems that there's some demonic presence in there with us, probably in charge "  
"Demonic magic?" Mallory inquiries further, something she'd expect Michael to snicker at, but no grin ridges onto his lips and no laugh bequeaths his mouth. He's swiftly become solemn, super solemn, wary even, it appears even in Hell, he's quickly become uncomfortable with their odds of getting out and the look on his face says it all.  
"Some seriously vicious Demonic magic, we have to be cautious with this type of shit, no matter what. You see, time isn't the exclusive thing that functions adversely in Hell, our ability to perform magic suffers the same effect, there will be moments where our performance is without issue, but there will be other times-"  
"Where we won't even be able to defend ourselves," Mallory finishes, finding a nod from Michael in return.  
"So it's positively essential that we're brisk about  _every_ move we do, offensive, protection, all of it. Greatest of all, we want to be conscious of whether or not we can perform magic in each corner we find ourselves in and there will be an abundance, I imagine that won't be difficult for a Witch of  _your_  calibre, Miss Catherine?"  
"Don't you worry about  _me_ , Langdon, just worry about yourself and Misty's position, speaking of, are you ready to go secure her?" Mallory asks, entrapping her Telepathy in her mind, allowing it to consistently read the aura of her magic. If the aura begins dimming down, she'll know that she needs to use a different approach, if it stays the same or better yet enhances, whether it be slightly or significantly, she'll know she can use her magic without any issue. If Michael is as smart as he thinks he is and possesses Telepathy just as she does, he'll use a comparable strategy, as much as she'd love to see him make a mistake that'll cost him his life, he's Misty, Madison and her only way of getting back to their home. "I'm ready, are you?"  
"Miss Catherine, I was born ready for this moment."  
"Don't overdo it, freaky man, don't overdo it."

Michael takes charge, leading the noiseless, reluctant Mallory down the endless empty hall, for each of them, it feels like they've been walking for a couple of miles before Michael turns abruptly, facing a closed classroom door. "This is the one, I can feel her presence behind this door, can you?"  
"I'm not going to lie to you, Langdon, I  _can_ , feels like a tinkling sensation, like a vibration in my spine, it gets stronger the closer we get to her."  
"Exactly, the presence of a Witch is a powerful thing, easy to track down in Hell, I learnt that when I accidentally discovered the Hell of Celeste De Boucher Donadieu, one of the establishing Supremes of Miss Robichaux's and we had a short chat. Ever since then, the feeling has never devised my mind, today just happens to be the second time I've encountered the feeling, but it seems our little reciprocity is about to kick it off once we enter this room."  
"Just open the fucking door, Langdon."  
"I can't," Michael chuckles softly, turning the door handle but with no effect. "It's locked and at this current moment I don't think I can use my-"  
Fretful, Mallory softly pushes Michael away from the door with a Telekinetic force before standing directly in front of the door. Holding her hands close together, Mallory begins forming an invisible Telekinetic mass, the larger the mass becomes, the further her hands slowly become from one another. Once she can't hold onto the mass anymore, she launches it out with a scream, causing the door and the threshold around it to be shifted into the room, the sound of shattering glass follows firmly behind.  
"As you can see, the lock did absolutely nothing to keep us from finding ourselves inside," Mallory hisses, eyes reducing into a death stare. "We're running short on time."  
"Then please, after you," Michael says, allowing her into the room first, although she shows some reluctance to the invitation. "Think of it as a reward for awing me."  
"Yeah, whatever."  
The duo enter the smoke and exits into the room, finding a classroom full of unharmed children, a Professor with an appearance that screams demonic presence with his back to the duo, and Misty Day; terrified, blood-shot eyes blackened with more red, exhausted rings yet she appears to be wide awake, sickly pale as she screams while the scalpel cuts through a frog's soft, delicate tissue. Only God knows how many times Misty has been forced to dissect this singular frog or perhaps the situation is scarier and he  _doesn't_ know, nevertheless, Mallory knows that this consistently disgusting, soul-shattering process ends now, no matter what has to be done, no matter the effect it'll form. It ends now. That's when the professor turns out, eyes completely black through his glasses, voice dark and gravelly as he, or better yet  _it_ , speaks. "You're not supposed to be here with  _us_ , Witch! Neither are you, Michael Langdon, you're best turning around and finding your way back to the Living Realms, where you  _both_ belong. Leave before I destroy the both of you and bring your souls to our Master as a gift."

"That's not going to happen, none of it, we're here for Misty Day and we're not leaving without her," Mallory hisses, feeling her aura begin to dim down, indicating that the use of her power is limited if she can use it at all. "Step aside or we'll make  _this_ Hell  _your_ own."  
"Please, help me," Misty begs, more tears leaving the corners of her eyes. "Are- are you- are you real?"  
"Yes, Misty, we're true, I promise, we're here to take you home, back to Miss Robichaux's Academy-"  
"NO! I WILL NOT ALLOW YOU TO TAKE MISTY DAY FROM HER HELL! I WILL SLAUGHTER ALL  _THREE_  OF YOU BEFORE I ALLOW THAT TO HAPPEN!" The Professor screams, inducing all of the children to slowly glare at them with dead, willless eyes. " _WE_  WILL SLAUGHTER ALL OF YOU! BY THE POWER GIFTED BY OUR MASTER, WE WILL-"  
Without warning, a large shard of glass flings across the entire room, barely missing Mallory and Misty but decapitating the demonic Professor in a blink, causing blood to cover the floor and the shard of glass to stick to the wall due to its high rapidity. Mallory turns around, facing Michael, that shit-eating grin perched back onto his face, clearly proud of the swift motion that  _seemingly_  exterminated the demonic entity, but Mallory isn't aroused in any way imaginable, a couple of centimetres closer, he would have decapitated her or worse, decapitated Misty, the woman they're there to save. He's not blind, he can see how unimpressed Mallory is, so to ensure that there's no bad blood between them, he's the first to speak, but he has no idea that there's nothing that'll fix their bad blood. "I'm sorry, Miss Catherine, I- I was just tired of that fool's lectures."  
Mallory doesn't reply, instead, she turns to face Misty, supporting her from the stool, observing her as she struggles to stand, years of sitting in one place will do that to someone. "Here, lean on me, Miss Day, I've got you, you're safe now."  
"Who- who are you?" Misty weakly asks as she alongside Mallory slowly walk towards Michael. "You're- you're here- to take me home? Back to the- the Academy?"  
"Yes, I promised you, my name is Mallory, I'm a student of Cordelia Goode, the Supreme Witch, and this is Michael Langdon, he's the reason for all of this, you could say," Mallory explains as Michael bows his head in respect, realising that there is a lot of things Misty will have to catch up on, especially once she mentioned Cordelia's name and the word Supreme. "We'll catch you up on and explain everything once we're back in the land of the living, once we're safe. We just have one last place to stop at and we're golden to go home, okay? You can trust  _me_."  
"My dear Mallory, I- I trust  _you_ , you're the first person I've seen in- I don't even know how long and you've come to help me," Misty replies, giving Mallory a weak but definite smile, that beautiful smile that she missed so much. "What's there to have difficulty trusting?"  
"You can trust  _both_ of us," Michael adds, glaring at Mallory with irritation. "Speaking of our last stop, I think it's time we exit this shithole, these children are  _sentries_ , at any moment we will animate and swarm us, once they do that, with the current state of our power, we have no chance of surviving something like that. So I give the honest vote that we get the fuck out of here."  
"You don't need to ask me twice, let's get out of here, Langdon."  
"In that case," Michael pauses, holding his hand out to both of the young women. "Take my arm and close your eyes."  
Somehow, without any form of hesitation, Mallory places her hand on Michael's arm and assists the placement of Misty's hand alongside her own. Mallory's fingers have wrapped around Michael's pulse, which is racing at a freakish, almost abnormal pace, but what's causing his pulse to react that way, she doesn't know. If she's honest with herself, it's rather soothing, to feel the human heart behind the inhuman Anti-Christ certainly feels like something else and relaxes her enough that she closes her eyes. Misty Day does the same but for different reasons, rather than being relaxed, she's simply exhausted, closing her eyes in hope to get some sleep, but after each of the young women feel the atmosphere change around them, they open their eyes, finding themselves standing in a Superstore, almost empty if it wasn't for the endless line of customers waiting to return their purchases.  
"Are all of those people?" Mallory suggests.  
"Demons or lost souls that don't even know they're dead?" Michael suggests back.  
"That- that is utterly terrifying," Misty appends.  
"Yeah, exactly what I was though, and those demons are-"  
"Sentries, as well, every single one of them."  
"Yep."

"Madison should be here somewhere, but I can't feel her presence, to be honest with you, I can barely feel anything at all, I guess it's true that  _all_ Hells are different in their way," Michael states, staring around the store, spinning in a circle to get as much of a view as he possibly can. "It seems we're in the middle of the store and considering your current state, dear Misty, um, maybe you should sit down and rest, we're in the shoe aisle, after all, there's a cosy spot waiting for you."  
"You- you know what, Mr Langdon," Misty sighs, slowly finding herself on the shoe aisle seat. "I- might take that opportunity- while it  _remains_  an opportunity."  
"Rest up, Misty, you deserve it," Mallory says, lightly touching Misty's pale, delicate cheek, comforting her as she falls asleep. "God, she's tough."  
"Tough is the understatement of 2017, if she hasn't broken down by now then she is unconditionally unbreakable," Michael comments, a genuine smile shaping his lips as he looks down at Misty as she slumbers peacefully. "We better start looking for Montgomery, we're running out of time, there's nobody at the register so we should sweep."  
"So let's go then, Langdon," Mallory agrees, beginning their sweep by walking in a single direction, but rather than covering more ground, Michael follows her. The truth is, Mallory  _can_  feel Madison's presence, she knows which direction to go towards, but at the same time, Michael could be lying about what he said. Can he truly feel nothing in Madison's Hell? Or is he just testing Mallory, seeing if she can feel what he  _can_  or  _cannot_? For safety precautions, Mallory strays off from her original direction, pretending to look for Madison at every corner she turns, ultimately slowly making her way towards the source of Madison's magic aura.  
"Can I ask you a personal question, Miss Catherine?"  
"I'm not entirely sure that we have time to such luxuries, Langdon, we've got a Witch to hunt down," Mallory says, groaning deeply. "Okay, fine, what could you possibly wish to know about me."

"It's less about you and more about your connection with that strange Warlock, Percival Theobald-Godwin, he's an unusual exemplar and a notably powerful Warlock. So what's  _not_  to be drawn in on?" Michael asks with a chuckle, but Mallory knows his aims; Michael wishes to study  _probably_ one of his most significant adversaries, perhaps even  _their_ biggest adversaries. "I'm curious is all, curious about what you know about him, how he came to working with Miss Robichaux's, a Warlock working with Witches is a rarity in this cruel world, kind've beautiful if you ask me. Ariel and Baldwin have told me plenty about the man, but I sense some serious-"  
"Discrimination. Besides, I thought you thoroughly-supported your 'precious' mentors?" Mallory hisses, defending Percival even though, by the short presentation of his ferocious power, doesn't need any defending, not physical at least.  
"The term I was going to use was bias and, for your information, Ariel and Baldwin are an abundance of things,  _precious_ is not one of them. If I'm to be flawlessly honest with you, Ariel and Baldwin are pathetically ambitious; they're wearisome, monotonous, shallow and weak-minded, they care only for themselves and themselves alone. John Henry Moore was angry at best but was a far  _greater_ mentor to my fellow Warlocks, Behold Chablis, well, I believe he spoke for himself and both men were far greater for Hawthorne, far greater men period. Believing I was the only one to think such thoughts about Hawthorne's now  _only_ Councilmen, I asked around and my fellow Warlocks completely agree with me, unfortunately for me, being the Alpha Warlock and all, I have to cooperate with them, for  _now_."  
"For now? Sounding a little ambitious yourself, Langdon."  
"Once I'm Alpha, technically once I'm old enough  _I_ will be in charge of Hawthorne, but until then, I will be keeping a close eye on my fellow Warlocks, looking for the right people to-"  
"Replace the old Council with a new Council," Mallory finishes, raising an eyebrow at Michael; replace means kill in his language.  
"Precisely."

"Percival came to us looking for a simple job for some simply-earned cash, all I know is it seems he wanted to leave his old life behind, magic, mercenaries, all of it. But it appears that because of Ariel's invasion, whatever he was running from has caught up with him," Mallory briefly explains, looking back at Michael to see him dead-ass staring at her, clearly wanting to hear the tea. "You're curious about whether or not I knew about his ability to use magic, to answer that question, no, he told us about his Warlock status, besides, that was pretty basic information, but until tonight, I never saw him perform any magic. Whatever  _else_ is going on with him, I don't know anything about either, it seems I have a lot of questions to ask our dear Percival. What about you, freaky man? You seem to be an expert on demons, have you seen  _anything_  like the power Percival presented tonight?  _Anything_  at all?"  
"This is going to surprise you, Miss Catherine, but I don't have a  _single_ fucking clue about that, perhaps you'll have to keep me updated on that."  
"Maybe, but let's focus on our current task, Langdon, let's find Madison Montgomery before we run out of the time, okay?" Mallory suggests, suddenly feeling light-headed but from unknown reason, perhaps from the excitement but perhaps it could be something else. "How much time do we have left?"  
"Could be hours, could be minutes, hopefully, it's not fucking  _seconds_ , all I know is  _I'm_ starting to feel woozy myself, which is the first sign that we're running out of time," Michael sighs, impatiently staring around the Superstore, the urge to tear it all apart becoming more and more insatiable as each second passes. "Fuck it we're not getting anywhere doing this shit. MADISON MONTGOMERY! MADISON! COME OUT! WE HAVE IMPORTANT MATTERS TO DISCUSS YOUR POSITION IN THIS WONDERFUL PLACE!"  
Right on queue, like walking on-screen in one of her movies, Madison nervously turns the corner, wearing an uncomfortable, ugly Superstore uniform. " _I'm_ Madison Montgomery, the poor soul trapped in this fucking shithole."  
"We're aware of your title, Miss Montgomery, you will speak when given absolute permission," Michael growls, causing Mallory to glimpse at him in puzzlement. "We're here to discuss your change of position in this Hellscape because there's been a decision bestowed by our great Master. You're free, Miss Montgomery, but your freedom comes with a costly price, first you must suffer seventy-two hours of viciously tanning under the eternal fires of Hell."  
Mallory remains silent, almost drowning in the puzzlement. What the fuck is Michael talking about?

"Okay, um, after I suffer seventy-two hours tanning under the eternal fires of Hell as you mentioned, I'm free to walk the land of the living?" Madison questions confidently.  
"Wait, you'd go through with that?" Michael asks, himself amazed by Madison's determination to be free on a Superstore. "The cost of freedom is never too much, I suppose."  
"He's fooling you, Madison, at least I hope he's pretending? You're pretending right, Langdon?" Mallory urges, raising an eyebrow once more.  
"I'm teasing, Miss Catherine, so I apologize, Miss Montgomery, I just couldn't help myself. The  _real_  reason we're here is to free you without suffering and without sacrifice, we've already freed Misty Day from her-"  
"Misty Day?! She's here?! Where?!" Madison squeals in overpowering excitement. "Jesus Christ, it's going to be fucking amazing to see her, I mean, last time I saw was the day that we  _both_ died horribly and I was uncivilised with her. So, you're both taking me out of this joint?"  
"Yes," Michael answers.  
"We are," Mallory adds. "Specifically, when we all exit Hell, we'll be back at Miss Robichaux's Academy, oh shit, names; my name is Mallory Catherine and this is Michael Langdon, we were sent to save both of you."  
"You're  _both_ with Miss Robichaux's?! With Cordelia Goode?! Man, I'll be able to see all of them! Cordelia, Zoe, Queenie, Myrtle, and even dumbass Kyle, who was the one who killed me in the first, I mean, I guess I deserved it? I refused to bring Zoe back from-"  
"Look, Miss Montgomery, we're running out of time here, I don't particularly know how much we have left but we're going to go let's go now, yeah?" Michael proposes.  
"Don't have to ask me a second time," Madison accepts, watching as Mallory and Michael turn around, speed walking back around the store. "Wait, where's Misty Day?"  
"Accompany us and see for yourself! C'mon we're running out of-"

Without warning and before Mallory can finish what she's telling, one of the customers turns the corner and grips onto Mallory's throat, lifting her from the safety of the ground, causing her to gasp for air. The customer's eyes are just as black as the professor's, just as dead inside and just as terrifying; the transparent definition of fiendish. Unable to use magic to defend herself, primarily since she's unable to focus due to her lack of oxygen, Michael intervenes to save her life, putting his demonic strength to use, gripping onto the customer's head. He violently twists its head until he hears the noise he craves so much, snapping its neck, dropping it to the ground only to then catch Mallory before she collapses onto the ground.  
"Mallory?! Are you okay?!" Michael questions, holding her upright until she's able to stand on her own. "Fucking hell, we need to get out of here, all of us need to move it and secure Misty! NOW!"  
Mallory, Michael and Madison prowl through the Superstore aisles, turning corner after corner to sneak past the activated Sentries, until they find Misty, still peacefully slumbering on the shoe aisle seat. The sight of Misty causes Madison to enter a state of reverence, exhilaration and overall joy, so much so, tears begin running from her eyes and down her cheeks. "She's still so beautiful, I don't know how I was so cruel to her when she was so kind to me. Do we need to wake her before our exit?"  
"No, she'll wake up after she reforms back to life, comparable to the way  _you_ will, Miss Montgomery, you're both going to wake up feeling exhausted at first, but  _lively_ , that's the important part. It's important to know that your magic may be minimised for a while but it'll return, all the same, you won't suffer weakness as much as poor Misty will, considering the contrast between your deaths," Michael teaches, turning around to see four sentries slowly walking towards them, causing him to growl in exciting rage. "It's important one of you explain all of that to Misty once she awakens, now if you'll excuse me, I have to take care of these fuckers."  
"Michael!" Mallory calls out, causing him to look back at her. "Be careful, you're our only way out of this dump."  
"I'll only be a moment."

Walking towards the sentries, Michael prompts each of his hands to explode in black Hellfire, watching as it begins to spread to his forearms before he uses it. The first shot of fire hits the first sentry in the side of the head, effectively melting half of its face but it continues to walk towards, while a second shot burns an enormous hole in the second sentry's chest, killing it instantly. Michael Transmutates behind the sentry with the half-melted face, using an ice-encrusted fist to crush the back of its head with a single wicked blow. Using Telekinesis, Michael hoists the third sentry off the ground before gripping onto the top of its head with two Telekinetic hands, screaming as he effortlessly rips the sentry in two, spilling a body full of blood, gore, bone and organs all over the Superstore tiled floors, a spray of blood even sprinkles his face. The final sentry manages to knock Michael to the ground with a ferocious punch to the jaw. However, before the sentry can continue the attack, Michael uses Telekinesis to paralyze the sentry in place as he finds himself to his feet, only to then grip onto the sentry's arm, twisting the bone from its arm before tearing the bone out completely, only to  _then_ force the bone through the sentry's own head,  _finally_ killing it. Regardless of the way he killed the sentries, none of them screamed, none of them showed any discomfort, pain or slowing down if Michael wasn't as brutal as he was, perhaps they wouldn't have stopped at all and his mission would have been for naught.  
"Holy shit," Madison gasps, her stomach churning from the display of brutality. "That was excessively brutal, right? It's not just me?"  
"You have no idea, Madison, there's a lot we need to address once we're back at the Academy,  _all_ of us. Rescuing you and Misty wasn't a random occurrence and Michael isn't with Miss Robichaux's, at the moment he's an imposter at a Warlock school called Hawthorne. You  _need_ to know that all of this was planned by Miss Robichaux's and that we  _need_ both of you if we're going to win this conflict."  
"What conflict?" Madison subjects with confusion. "You're saying freedom from this place means that I have to enter a conflict?"  
"You don't  _have to_ \- look, we'll discuss all of it once we're out of this shithole, once you have a glass of wine and a cigarette. How does that sound?"  
"That sounds perfect, Mallory, absolutely perfect."  
"I'm glad you agree with me,  _I_  could even use a drink and  _maybe_ even a cigarette once we get back."  
The silence gives Michael to chance to catch his breath, he's exhausted, light-headed like he's about to die of dehydration, a sign that the end of their time is near. His peaceful moment, however, is cut short as a dozen more sentries reveal themselves from the infinite aisles of the Superstore, the sight causing Michael's heart to sink into his stomach. "Oh fuck."  
"MICHAEL!" Mallory screams at the top of her lungs. "RUN!"  
Winking at Mallory, Michael Transmutates in front of her and Madison, only to then pick up Misty somewhat effortlessly. "Why run when I can Transmutate? You guys ready?!"  
"Ready," Mallory says, placing her hand on Michael's arm, prompting Madison to do the same.  
"Ready."  
"Welcome to the land of the living in three, two,  _one_."


	15. The Failure

"Hey! Wake up! Mallory!" Coco shrieks, causing Mallory to jolt awake, wiping a slight amount of drool from her mouth with embarrassment, only to realise she's in the comfort of her and Coco's room. "Finally, you're awake, I've been trying to wake you for hours, it's nearly midnight, eleven PM to be exact, and- I feared the worst."  
"Argh, my head," Mallory groans, feeling the cold embrace of Hell still clawing its way up her arms, her shoulders and into her mind; something she didn't experience the first and  _only_ time she sailed into the sea of Hell. "How did I get up here?"  
"Percival. He carried you up here like you scaled absolutely  _nothing_ , seems there's more than just some intense magic with this guy, anyway, that's not important, what's important is you're awake-"  
"But that means that Michael is awake too?" Mallory sighs, watching as Coco nods before rising from the bed and planting her feet on the ground, presently sitting beside her best friend. "What's the situation with Michael and Hawthorne?"  
"Michael was 'polite' enough to give Miss Robichaux's time to assist their 'newly reacquired companions'," Coco reveals, feeling the need to roll her eyes just by repeated those words. "God, he's a creepy asshole, but I have to admit, seeing him completely shut down Ariel and Baldwin from any form of control was fucking entertaining, to say the least."  
" _Hopefully_  by the end of the night, Hawthrone will be far from the control of Michael and those traitorous pricks. What about Misty and Madison?! Are they okay?!"  
"They're ninety per cent okay, Misty is quite exhausted physically, mentally and magically, while Madison is slightly tired, overwhelmed I think. I don't think she expected to be accepted back into the Academy, which is crazy talk, Cordelia herself shut that down in an instant. They're both in Cordelia's room with the Council, with a few additional guests, being Kyle, Mr Chablis and Mr Henry Moore, who got sick of hiding in the attic. Don't worry, nobody saw them, they  _Transmutated_  into the room after Kyle gave them the green light, additionally important; you should have heard Kyle's apology for murdering Madison, took like ten minutes," Coco tells, giggling as she recounts Kyle's apology in her head. "I've never heard an apology like that in my life."  
"How did Madison react?" Mallory urges, almost at the edge of her bed in anticipation. How could she miss something like that? Would Cordelia have invited her to speak to and check on Misty and Madison in the first place? Feeling herself draw away from the conversation, Mallory refocusses, finding herself back in the state of anticipation.  
"Honestly she seemed more focused on finding herself a cigarette, but after Kyle's apology finally immersed into that thick skull of hers, you could instantly tell, her eyes became so teary you could barely see them and she practically launched herself into Zoe and Kyle's embrace. So it's safe to say they've made up, at least for the moment, besides, the last thing all of us want is some drama amongst our little  _family_ , right?"

"God, you're too right about that, Coco," Mallory scoffs, placing her hand over Coco's, to which she accepts without question. "Hey, thank you for sticking with me, you have no idea how much I appreciate that. Considering the situation, we're finding ourselves deeper and deeper in, it's critical to know I can still experience the little things, like talking to someone about my feelings or having a shoulder to rest my head on-"  
"Don't sweat it, that's what best friends are for, right?" Coco says, smirking at her best friend, watching as Mallory rests her head on her shoulder. "What a night, I know I'm going to sleep well tonight."  
"You said it, sister, what a fucking night."  
Just as Mallory begins to rest her eyes, there's suddenly a knock on the door of their room, causing the duo to groan in irritation as Kyle walks through the door. "Hey, guys, I know, I'm sorry, I'm tired too but the night isn't over, not yet, in fact, we're about to finish it,  _all_  of it."  
"All of it?!" Mallory gasps, rising from the bed in shock. So this is it? Everything is about to end before it ever truly begins, Cordelia has seemingly decided that with her Council without her, not that she can complain about that, as long as  _she_ is the one to kill Michael. Out of nowhere, she feels this adrenaline course through the entirety of her body, she feels a sense of excitement, however disturbing it may be, that is the way she feels. Nobody else suffers after what comes next, but what are their plans exactly? "What plan are we following?"  
"The decision was abrupt, so don't think we made it primarily without you; John and Behold will announce to Hawthorne that they didn't retire as Ariel and Baldwin had told them, declaring the attempt made on their lives. Whether or not Ariel and Baldwin are killed now or burnt at the stake for their crimes, is completely up to them, as for Michael, he doesn't get that choice, it's time for him to die."  
"I'm ready," Mallory says, agreeing with the plan without any form of a question.  
" _We're_  ready," Coco adds.  
"Not so fast, Coco, Cordelia and I need you to stay with Madison and Misty alongside Queenie and Myrtle Snow. Mallory, Cordelia, Zoe, John, Behold and I will take care of what comes next, go and take care of our girls, that's  _just_  as important as ending this."  
"Yes, I can do that, I can- I can do that," Coco says, looking at Mallory for any form of sanction. "Right?"  
"Go, protect our girls," Mallory agrees, watching as Coco slowly leaves their room, leaving only herself and Kyle in the room. "Are you ready to end this horror show, Spencer?"  
"To protect this Coven, her girls and the people I love, I'm ready for anything," Kyle pauses, giving Mallory a 'you first' hand gesture, allowing her through the door first.  
"Let's end it."

After the small group unites, they slowly make their way downstairs, each of them discussing and finalizing how the plan is going to be executed. Mallory, however, is impatient, she wants to see Michael die and as expeditiously as possible, and the faster Cordelia, Zoe, Kyle and herself make it down the stairs of the Academy, executing the beginning of the plan, the faster she'll get what she wants. As they begin descending the stairs, Mallory takes it  _all_  in; Ariel and Baldwin anxiously await their return, while all of the Witches and even the majority of the Warlocks are tired of the night's events, eager to find some well-deserved sleep. The only Warlocks that remain eager to hear of Michael's ascension to Alpha Supreme are Michael's dearest followers, followers that Michael has ostensibly converted to his loyalists, how he's managed to do so is a mystery, but the fact alone, Mallory can see it like an open book. If they know of his true origins and are following them  _nevertheless_ , then they're just as crazy as he is, true believers in the cause that will destroy the world, well,  _would_ destroy the world; a destined path short-lived by someone less deserving of  _any_  path. Michael himself is calm, consolidating himself and everything around him, that dense simper still glued onto his dense looking face, his ocean blue eyes staring at two people in particular, both of which look extremely uncomfortable by the attention; Percival's siblings, Astrid and Elliot. Luckily for them, for the Academy, for everyone around him and the world itself, his presence is about to fade into nothingness as Mallory takes his life away.  
"You've kept us waiting long enough, don't you think it's time to announce Michael's transcendence?" Ariel chuckles with a smug look on his face. If only he knew what was about to go down. "Or do you fear to let go of the title you barely earned?"  
"You dare speak to the Supreme that way?" Zoe hisses at the Warlocks, causing Michael to raise an eyebrow, clearly entertained by Zoe's ferocity.  
"No, Miss Cordelia has held onto your title long enough," Baldwin adds, standing between Ariel and Michael. "It's time to give it all up, pass it to our dear Michael, your successor, while you remain strong enough to do so. Besides, Miss Cordelia isn't the Supreme anymore, not after Michael returned from Hell with two of the students  _she_ failed to save, I'd say he's more than proved himself capable of the mantle."  
"Isn't she?" Kyle topics, chuckling to himself, cheekily bumping each of his shoulders against Zoe and Mallory's. "Maybe, maybe not, right? Regardless of what she is or isn't at this  _very_  point in time, you'll find that in a moment, worrying about that, will be the least of your problems."  
"The absolute least," Mallory adds, smirking as the expressions on all three of her enemies' faces changes within an instant.  
"Something isn't right," Michael mutters to himself, as well as his most trusted Warlock followers, feeling around for the source of the disturbance,  _Telepathically_  realising that whatever the source is, it has severed his chance of discovering it entirely. "Impossible, nobody can hide from me."

"Fortunately for us, there has been a change of plans," Cordelia grins as John and Behold begin descending the stairs, with Mallory, Kyle and Zoe making room, allowing the Warlocks to stand beside their allies. "But don't let  _me_ explain the sudden shift of situation, I'm going to pass that responsibility onto some good friends of  _ours_. Listen up, Hawthorne and listen well, passing onto Warlock Councilmen, John Henry Moore and Behold Chablis."  
"Shit," Ariel upbraids.  
"You have to be fucking kidding me," Michael grumbles viciously, shaking his head in disbelief. It seems Miss Mead has been a little dishonest with him and considering the length of time following John and Behold's 'deaths', only God knows how much erudition has been passed onto Miss Robichaux's, currently his greatest threat and forever his sworn enemies. How is he going to find himself out of this position? He needs to figure something out and as quickly as  _inhumanly_  possible.  
"Ariel Augustus. Baldwin Pennypacker. You're under arrest for the attempted assassination of two Warlocks on the Council of The Hawthorne School for Exceptional Young Men," Behold says, swearing the statement in front of the entirety of Hawthorne and Miss Robichaux's, watching as jaws drop and the state of awe becomes the most common. "Michael Langdon, for your part in the attempted assassination, the laid out consequences will apply to you alongside Ariel and Baldwin."  
"This is absolute madness!" Ariel cracks, panicking like a dog trapped in a corner. "Students of Hawthorne, we're leaving this madhouse." However, as everyone, who isn't Michael, Ariel, Baldwin and the Warlock followers expected, the Hawthorne Warlocks do not move, holding their ground. Ultimately supporting John and Behold over Ariel and Baldwin, who have found themselves completely and utterly alone.  
"Do you have any evidence to prove said attempt on your life, Mr Chablis? Or is this your  _own_  attempt to relieve me of my title before I even get it?" Michael growls, teeth clenching as he breathing gradually becomes less and less, much more animalistic by the second. "This is bullshit."  
"Bullshit, he says. Do you want evidence? It'll take some time but a memory revelation spell will reveal to everyone that Miriam Mead was the hired assassin, Miriam Mead, a former military officer and Cardinal of the Church of Satan, Miriam Mead,  _you're_ legal guardian, Michael Langdon. All three of you attempted on our lives just to maintain his chance at retrieving the title as Alpha Supreme, which he is  _not_ ," John chuckles with a smug smirk on his face as he stares at Michael, his words causing Michael to flinch in pure hatred, the very thing John wants to see. "I hate to break it to you, Michael, but having demonic heritage makes your magic unnatural, being the Anti-Christ takes away  _any_ chance of becoming a champion of such calibre; the champion that defends the three worlds. You're only in it for the third world, the Spirit world, because once you destroy the other two, there will only be  _one_ , right? I can't wait to see you fail your  _only_ purpose and I most definitely can't wait to see what comes next. By the power bestowed upon Behold Chablis, as well as myself, the  _newly_  appointed Grand Chancellors of Hawthorne, we sentence Ariel Augustus, Baldwin Pennypacker and Michael Langdon to death by fire."

Michael screams violently, engulfing both of his hands in Hellfire, lighting up the room with the flames ridiculed with darkness. However, before he can react and make his attack on John, Michael is thrown across the room, the Hellfire extinguishing as he slams hard into the wall, a sickly crunch following the impact before he slides from the wall and onto the ground. The impact has left him with a broken arm, a large cut on his hand and probably a bouquet of bruises, all of which to remember Percival by. As Michael slowly finds himself off of the Academy's wooden floor, Percival reveals himself to be the one who tossed the Anti-Christ around like a ragdoll, his physical form bounding with his ghost-like form as he stands put, staring at the vulnerable Michael, contemplating whether he should kill him now or allow someone else to do it.  
"Try that shit again, I'll break your other arm, are we clear?" Before Percival can make the decision, Michael gives him a taste of his own medicine, using his unbroken arm to throw Percival across the room with Telekinesis, watching as the Half-Spirit slams into the wall with deadly force, hoping it will at least Percival out of commission. Unlike Michael, however, Percival seems unscathed by the impact, with the wall enduring practically all of the damage while Percival simply brushes the plaster from his suit. "I wasn't clear enough, unlike you, it's going to take more than a close encounter with the wall to hurt me, kid."  
"Thank you, Mr Theobald-Godwin, but that'll be all," Cordelia comments on the situation, watching the situation carefully rather than talking and ruining her concentration.  
"I've noticed that you fucking cunt," Michael groans, finding him to his feet, one hand on his broken arm. "I'd hate to rip out the rest of your pretty soul."  
"You'll never get the chance to do that," Kyle growls, defending his ally. "Not after tomorrow morning, you'll be ashes alongside your legal guardian once the Coven Personal Guard get their hands on her."  
"Kyle, relax," Zoe adds in.  
"Yes, Mr Spencer, relax, let your woman do all the talking, besides, we'll see if your threats become reality in due time, won't we?"

That's when Michael's eyes meet Mallory's, the woman who he helped save Misty and Madison, yet, she does nothing to assist the corner he's been forced in, she stands by her Supreme, and worse, she knows of his origins. If she and everyone else were smart, they'd kill him right here, right now, no death by fire, a good old fashioned decapitation and it's all over, they saved the world. Yet, they hesitate, Mallory hesitates, Cordelia hesitates, they  _all_ hesitate, something they will regret for the rest of their lives, especially after what comes next. Feeling another attack on its way, Michael slams his cut open hand into the ground, forming a large pentagram that holds himself, Ariel, Baldwin and his followers, within a blink, ultimately forming a boundary spell. Nothing can get into the pentagram and nothing can get out of the pentagram, allowing Michael to do the only thing he can in this situation, especially in his state; escape. A smile creases into his mouth, a chuckle leaving his lips as he watches all of the eyes of his enemies widen with realisation, the realisation that just when they thought they had him, he's slipping out of their grasp.  
"It's been an enjoyable night, but all matters come to an end, don't they? Fear not, we'll all gather again in due time, however, this said due time, we'll all be meeting on a bloody battlefield rather than a fancy event, where you'll  _all_ meet your end by a flaming sword. Now  _that_ is a promise that will be fulfilled with glorious purpose."  
"NO! STOP HIM!" Mallory screams as she runs towards the pentagram, using everything in her, Zoe and Cordelia's combined magical might to stop them for leaving the premises, despite their efforts, Mallory blinks and they're all gone, along with their  _one_ easy chance of killing Michael once and for all. "No, no, no, no. No. No. NO. Where did he go?! WHERE DID HE GO?!"  
"I- I don't know," Cordelia says, panic in her eyes, along with everyone around them too. "I- I don't- know."  
"We didn't, did we?" Kyle questions, a raging tear rolling down his cheek as the recognition wears into his mind. "We did not just allow that."  
"We did," Zoe cries out. "We did."  
"WHERE DID THE BASTARDS GO!" Mallory screams, causing the whole Academy to shake.


	16. The Unity

It's early in the morning and Mallory hasn't slept despite being exhausted and Coco cuddled up beside her, not after the excitement of midnight's events, not after her failure to save the world. How did she allow Michael and the traitorous Warlocks, Ariel and Baldwin, to escape? She could have ended the conflict, saved billions of lives, the lives of her friends, the people she calls her family, right then, right there, yet she hesitated. Why did she hesitate? She doesn't owe him a damn thing, besides a long, drawn-out, painful death. Her hesitation will cost her a great deal, if not  _everything_ , Michael himself promised her that, promised that he'll come back to Miss Robichaux's and burn it to the ground, as well as everything and everyone within it. Whether or not Ariel and Baldwin will  _truly_  join Michael's conquest towards world damnation is unknown, notably after the reveal of his origin and his  _true_ demonic power. The  _only_  thing that's assured, if they  _don't_ join him they're dead men walking, Michael would rather use their reanimated corpses as serfs then allow them to live, but then again, the loss of his precious mentors will force him to look for new, equally powerful allies. Michael's biggest weakness is he wants his allies to be the best of the best, the most powerful, the most vicious, the most willing to kill and the most willing to destroy the world. Satanists and demons will no doubt be his start, but where could he have gone so early in the morning? Too exhausted to continue to think about Michael potential design for war and too uncomfortable to fall back asleep, Mallory slowly finds herself out her bed, careful not to wake up Coco, before finding herself into the hall, desperate for some fresh air. That's when she meets Madison, wide awake, hair messy which is abnormal for someone with her standards, she reeks of cigarette smoke and wine, but most interesting of all, she's leaving Kyle and Zoe's room, messy hair, the fact it's three AM in the morning. Mallory does the math and smirks at her in response.  
"Hey, don't judge me, give it at least a week before you start judging me-"  
"Hey, the way I see it, Cordelia hasn't given you a designated room, so, sharing with Zoe and Kyle for a night seems like quite the solution," Mallory says, shrugging her shoulders. "Each to their own, as long as you're happy, who gives a shit."  
"I know we've technically already met in a  _literal_  past life, according to the visions you should Misty and I at least, but I suppose it would be pleasant for you to know that I like you already, Mallory, you're cool."  
"Thank you, Madison," Mallory snickers, watching as Madison tiptoes down the hallway, heading towards the stairs. "Hey, where are you going?"  
"Oh me? I found this weed dealer on Tinder, he wants me to blow him for an ounce, and before you jump to conclusions, I'm not going to."  
"Well, what  _are_ you going to do?" Mallory urges.  
"What do you think? I'm going to rock up to his house, use some good old fashioned Concilium and voila, the job is done, I get my weed and the creeper gets nothing."  
"That's exactly how us Witches roll, right?"  
"You're too right about that, sister," Madison giggles, glaring back at the stairs. "Hey, I will see you later today, at breakfast probably, I just better get going."  
"Alright, have fun, but not too much fun, yeah?"  
"Of course."

Madison disappears down the stairs, leaving Mallory alone in the hall, a chilly breeze causes her to turn and face the glass balcony door, where she can't help but notice it wide open, which is simply strange. That's when she sees the clear exhale of smoke flowing through the New Orleans air, so calm, a finely formed orbicular wind of smoke evaporating in the breeze, Mallory immediately finds herself enticed to it. She slowly walks her way through the threshold of the glass door, finding Percival, wide awake, a cigarette in his mouth and a bottle of Maker's Mark in his hand, nearly empty, and a bottle of Koval Four Grain on the ground, empty. How Percival is still functioning after so much booze and tobacco Mallory doesn't understand, but the unimpaired sadness in his blue and green eyes, Mallory regards and understands that, if only she could understand why the sadness is so perfect, unbroken, unbridled. Something gives Mallory the feeling that she's going find out why but at the same time, Mallory can't feel into his mind like she can with everyone else, so it seems if she wants the answers, she has to wait for them.  
"Can't sleep?" Percival questions, blowing out another perfect circle of smoke from his lips. "Did the night have too much excitement for you, Miss Catherine?"  
"Something like that, yes. Aren't you exhausted from last night's event? Have you slept at all? And please just call me Mallory."  
"Okay,  _Mallory_ , no, I'm not exhausted from everything that happened, I haven't slept and I don't need to, it's part of what I am. Oh, by the way, I was going to notify yourself, Cordelia, the Council and CPG in the morning but I might as well begin with you seeing you're awake. The  _gateway_  that Michael left behind? I managed to destroy it from within, turns out while everyone else was forbidden to enter it,  _I_ could, strangely enough, that doesn't matter anyway, what's important is it's gone."  
"Hold the phone, spooky man, gateways?" Mallory urges, raising an eyebrow as Percival finishes his secret, groaning in frustration. "Hey, I just woke up! Give me some time to adjust to the mention of spells I'm completely unaware of."  
"The pentagram that Michael made out of his blood was the gateway, allowing him to  _Transmutate_  to and from Miss Robichaux's whenever he pleased, possibly even allowing him to spy on us whenever he pleased. Demonic magic at its simplest, entering the pentagram was the most difficult part, it ached but only for a moment, after that, all I needed to do was break the symbol and alas, it's gone. We don't have to worry about that piece of shit spying on us anymore."  
"So, I couldn't help but notice you released some serious power on Ariel last night, serious power that nobody has seen, trust me, I asked around. Cordelia, Myrtle, Zoe, who is a fucking bookworm with that type of shit, and Queenie, all of which are far more intuned with magic practice than I am at this very moment, and they've never seen anything remotely close to what we all witnessed. You don't have to explain if you don't want to, but you could say that you've coloured me interested in that."  
"You want to know, Mallory? Truly? I have to give you quite the warning, I like to think of us as being acquaintances if not true friends but if I answer your question, I'm afraid that won't be the case anymore, that I'll become a martyr as I've always been, a necessary evil. Well, to be perfectly fair, I will  _always_ be a necessary evil if not evil alone, anyway, off track, you've been warned, my story is emotional for lack of a better word."  
"I won't be going to bed anytime soon, I'm all ears if you're willing to tell me, Percival."

"Well, hopefully, I don't sound too cryptic when I say the question isn't what I am, but what is it I became two years ago. You see, Miss Mallory, the answer to that question isn't easy to explain I'm yet to fully understand what I can do and how to control it. However, if you're willing to listen to me, listen to my story, I can tell you what I am and how became this  _thing_."  
"Percy, I'm all ears, I told you this, you can trust me, okay?" Mallory says, softly placing her hand on the rock hard muscle of his arm, surprised to see he hasn't rejected her, considering he recently told her he doesn't like to be touched. "Tell the story as quickly or slowly as you like, no rush."  
"Um, okay, Mallory, thank you, it's going to be quite difficult so I do appreciate that. Ahem, as all things normally do, my story begins with my parents and alongside other aspects of the story I'm about to tell you, leading up to where I've recently found myself, it's complicated, even at the start. My father, the father I share with Astrid and Elliot, fell in love and began a relationship with my mother, an esteemed Witch he'd met at the very school we stand in, from what I was told, their relationship began only a few months after they first met. The pure definition of love at first sight, which would, in normal circumstances, be considered a great blessing. However, the  _only_ issue with their relationship, which instantly became a significant issue, was that my father was promised to marry another at a young age, all to align two bloodlines. My father's great bloodline, and a bloodline much, much  _lesser_ than  _my_ mother's, the bloodline that would grow to hate  _anything_  even referencing the existence of my mother, let alone  _someone_  who resembles it; the blood that belongs to the mother of my siblings. An unorthodox tradition in modern New Orleans, but a tradition nonetheless, a tradition that would end in dishonour if it was ever discovered that my father had fallen for another and broken my grandparents' promise. This obviously complicated matters, but my father persevered on keeping the relationship a secret, even after he was forced to marry the mother of my siblings, a secret that could have only last so long, but by the time the 'affair' as they were calling it was discovered, my mother was already pregnant with me, a fact my father's mother, my grandmother, a Witch with a fetish for dark magic, didn't appreciate, so she did the only thing that made sense to that psychotic bitch."  
"She tried to get rid of you, didn't she?" Mallory suggests, watching the sadness in his eyes change to an absolute puzzle as if he's disputing how someone could do something so cruel to a baby, an innocent baby, a baby that hasn't even taken its first breath.  
"My grandmother wanted to get rid of me, wanted to destroy me before I could ever be born, all in order to protect the alliance between my father's family and his wife's, so using my father's blood she hexed me, believing that I would eventually, succumb to the curse and die in the coming months. But I continued to grow happily in my mother's womb until it was time for me to enter this world, but with my birth, came the death of the mother I never knew, the mother I will never get the chance to meet. Since that day my father was never the same, I only understood that after he passed away after being struck by a drunk driver, but regardless of his difficulties, he persisted in raising me for as long as he was alive. It was once he died in front of me that I began to develop my unstable abilities, an immediate response to the mind-shattering levels of stress. The instability of my newly discovered abilities, as well as the fact that my father couldn't protect anymore, my father's bitch of a wife shipped me off at Hawthorne with the intentions of leaving me there permanently. That part of my story you've been told about it, yes?"

"John and Behold filled me in with that information, but they didn't go into full detail, John said it wasn't his place, what they did say was that you gave into Ariel and Baldwin's cruelty, lashed out, taking the life of one of the students then fled. All of that pent up emotion could only have led to one thing, Ariel knew that but he didn't care, just as I imagine he didn't care for the life of that Warlock, anyone in your position would do the same."  
"Yes, but the fact didn't make it any easier,  _he_ didn't deserve it, it was unfair of me to take out such murderous rage on such an innocent boy. Truth is, I've forgotten his name, I forgot years ago, but I remember what he looks like, that part was clear enough. I remember how kind he was, how he was very much the only person in that school that treated me like a human being, that tried teaching me when the teachers and other students wouldn't. I also remember how terrified he was the night my mind shattered and the walls caved me in, forcing me to fight for my survival, how he begged me to calm down and as I got worse, begged me for mercy. But it didn't matter, I killed him nonetheless, pushing him into the wall and breaking the back of his skull, there was so much blood everywhere, I tried my best to help him but his death was quick, painless, instant. After accidentally taking the life of that poor young Warlock, I didn't know what to do so I ran, ran as far away as I could from that dreadful place; away from Ariel and Baldwin, from the cruelty, from the dark and into the light of a new life. But the thing was, I couldn't have that new life if I couldn't control my abilities, if I was always a threat to others, so after months of concentration, of living, where nobody could get hurt while I experimented with techniques, I finally mastered every ability I could get my hands on, it quickly became an obsession just because of how proud I was of myself. After settling back to civilisation, that's when I met  _her_."

"Her?" Mallory asks, trying to recollect any mention of female synonyms from Percival's mouth but she finds nothing. "You've never mentioned a woman in your life before."  
" _Her_. My wife, Maria, I'd met her in the French Quarter a couple of days after my return and I swear to God we just stood there and stared at one another for five minutes before  _she_  found the courage to come speak to me. It was love at first sight, just like my parents, everything for us felt so quick but really, when I was around her, months could pass, and it would only feel like a sole moment. She was a Witch like you, not as powerful but I never underestimated her, not once, hell, as if I'd ever dare to underestimate that woman. Some people bring out the worst in you, others bring out the best, and then there are those remarkably rare, addictive ones who just bring out the most. Of everything. They make you feel alive that you'd follow them straight to hell, my Maria was one of those people. She was unexplored, unusual and terrifyingly beautiful. Only a few will know how to love you without breaking you and making you dangerous. The truth is, I was only ever loved by my father and my mother, my father told me she did love me, that was until I met Maria and I felt that true loving feeling in the flesh. When we met, we were seventeen, we moved in together at eighteen, made our vows at nineteen, and our beautiful twins were born at twenty."  
"A wife?! Kids?! I never even thought about that, Percival, I'm so sorry, I judged your character so wrongly."  
"Don't be sorry, Mallory, these days it's uncommon for someone my age to be married and have children, among the other beautiful parts of my life when it was the way it was. To be honest, it felt like I'd blinked and suddenly we were a family, people who loved each other, we were home, I'd never felt anything like it before and I never wanted to let it go. We were raising our beautiful twins together in an apartment with good people as our neighbours, I'd started working full time as a personal trainer and was studying to become a teacher, and one day we'd decided we were going to buy ourselves some land to build our dream home on, the land I currently own; a decision that, in the end, would cost me  _everything_."

"You're saying words in past tense a lot, I have a- feeling, things are going to take a turn."  
"Take a turn, she says, the story doesn't take a turn, it gets constricted by a massive snake until its eyes pop out. Maria and I decided on the land, but we discovered that the land was owned by some very  _private_  people, people we were warned don't like visits from outsiders, but what we were also told was worth a shot. So, I and my wife left our children with my sister-in-law before meeting up with the owners of the land, we found them  _eventually_ ; turns out they were a clan of sorts, a clan that didn't like the idea of their private land being sold to outsiders. The moment I realised we'd offended them, I dragged Maria back to the car and got the fuck out of there, the thing was, however, when we found them, it was practically nightfall. Mallory, no matter how fast I drove that night,  _they_ were always going to catch up with us, perks of being faster, stronger and more ferocious than Witch or Warlock, regardless of whether we were in a fucking car going at high speed. It turned out, we'd offended a clan of Werewolves, one of the most powerful and notorious Werewolf clans in America, perhaps even the world, because of our offence and the mere fact that it was nightfall, they began hunting us like the predators they are. It was only a matter of time, we were ambushed, our car was pushed off the road and flipped multiple times, I begged that when the car stopped rolling all over the forestry that we were dead, but, of course, that wasn't the case, it was never going to be the case."  
"Oh my god," Mallory gulps, her eyes slowly becoming glassed with tears.  
"My sweet Maria was the one to drag me out of the wreckage, but I couldn't feel any of it, I couldn't smell the burning metal, the gasoline, I could see my wife and hear her, but every other sense seemed to be gone in a single moment. I couldn't even feel her endless strength as she dragged me out of the wreck of our family car because my spinal cord had been severed, I was paralysed from the neck down, helpless to do anything, but of course, my beautiful, sweet, fearless Maria was still strong and fighting for the both of us. It took seconds for the Werewolves to converge on our position and that's when the horror truly began. My wife fought for as long as she could, even managing to kill a few of the fuckers, but those fucking beasts tore her to pieces, limb by limb, piece by piece, all while I watched helplessly, I closed my eyes, but the moment I did, the sounds of her screams became louder. If I was able to fight alongside her, then maybe we both could have stood a chance against them, but just like everything good in my life, that was taking away from me. When her heart finally gave out, I was their next victim, and it was their Leader, in human form and all, that killed me. First, he ripped out my eyes with his claws, which explains the facial scars, particularly the eye scar, then, he ripped into my chest cavity and went straight for the heart, which I have scars from also. They say that death means the end of everything you know, hell, I was ready for it, ready to join my wife in death, finally get that peace I John always told me about, but it seems even the joys of death got taken away from me, so, after a short-lived death, the real curse took its effect on me and I rose from the dead. The repulsive, marred shadow of a spirit that left my physical body when I used my power on Ariel, that's the  _real_  me, well, it's almost what I would look like if I was a corpse, I think that the spirit is far too fresh to be a three-year-old corpse."

"Percy?"  
"Mallory?"  
"What are you?"  
"I'm a complex organism, completely unnatural in every way, one of nature's biggest errors. Mallory, it took me months of research alone to figure out what I am at a basic level so forgive me for the fundamental details, but the knowledge I gathered made complete sense once I figured out some of the things I'm capable of, so here it is. I am a Hybrid of Revenant and Human, a spirit of vengeance, death and rage with half of my Human soul, which is abnormal, I still have the scars from my death, a reminder of what I failed to do, how I failed to protect my family. I postponed death by living, by suffering, by error, by risking, by giving and losing, now I postpone death by simply existing, as well as my curse. I am anathematised from death, always at the edge of feeling death's cold yet welcoming embrace, only to be torn back into this cruel, disgusting world, now  _that_ is a curse, but it wasn't without retribution. First thing I did when I rose from the dead was found myself back in the gates of the clan's home, using my new and ferocious power to—tear  _them_  to pieces, killing anyone that got in my way, men, women and—even children that got in the way of my vengeance. No matter what they threw at me, I kept coming, they couldn't slow me down and they sure as fuck couldn't kill me, hell, they still can't fucking kill me. In the end most of the clan had fallen, unfortunately, their Leader got away but I knew that eventually, I'd catch up with them, so I focussed my rage elsewhere, that's when I arrived at my brother and sister's doorstep, running miles and miles just to find myself at their door so I can do what I'd wanted to do my whole life. I broke down the door, strangled the woman who was responsible for my curse to death in front of my siblings, my brother got in the way so I threw him across the room, breaking his arm, after that—I fled and found myself at the home of the agent that suggested we talk to the beasts that killed my wife. I never gave him the chance to defend himself, he never even got a word in, because I removed his head from his shoulders the moment his eyes reached mine. I took more life in a single night than I did during my whole career as a mercenary, I was a monster and I  _still_  am, and that reality kicked in once I found myself back at what remained of my wife's body. I carried her back to the spot where we wanted to build our dream home together and buried her next to the tree, the tree we were going to build a swing on for our children to use, I believe that's where she'd want to be buried if we ever grew old together. That's when my mind then fell to my children, how could I ever tell them that I failed myself, failed their mother and most of all failed them, so I told my sister-in-law everything; what happened to her sister, what happened to me and how I couldn't return to my children until I was a better man, which was impossible after everything I'd done in a single night and morning. I'm not a man anymore, I'm a creature, a beast, a monster, I can never be the father my children need me to be, Mallory, I'm a failure to them and everyone around me, I always will be. I tried running from my mistakes and in all directions, running from who and what I am, and because of Ariel, Baldwin, that Michael kid, I've been unleashed on the world again, on this war that very well may destroy the world."

The eerieness of the silence and cicadas causes Percival's stomach to drop in anticipation of what she's going to say but after a minute passes and she's still said nothing, he goes ahead and starts the conversation. The truth goes further for than the surface for Percival, because if he's lost Mallory, then yet again, he's lost possibly one of the best friends he could ever ask for, so he dearly wishes that isn't the case.  
"Mallory, I'm sorry if I've scared you, my power is terrifying and intoxicating, it feels good not to be good sometimes, the truth is, I don't think you need  _just_ good to beat this type of evil. I truly think, that to beat this twisted, vicious, volatile evil, you need another type of evil, a type of evil that may be able to overwhelm even the Anti-Christ once we find him, and we  _will_ find him. You didn't fail, Mallory,  _we_ did, all of us together, the very same way we're going to win this,  _together_. Look, the type of evil you need is  _me_ , I'm willing to do things that none of you will, not even Kyle on his worst of days, things that would make even the devil blush. If I'm perfectly straight with you, I'm not doing this for the money, I  _never_  was, I'm doing this for my son and daughter, to give them the future their innocent lives deserve, because that's what a parent does, unfortunately, I'd forgotten that until recently. Even if the result kills me  _somehow_ , as long as  _they_  have a future at the end of this conflict, then it's more than a fair trade in my books. I will be asking for a form of payment, but that will be in due time, nothing for you or Cordelia to worry about at this current moment. Oh, and I'm also doing fighting with all of you because I believe in the cause you and Cordelia are leading. I believe that we can truly save the world from the clutches of evil worse than my own, just- don't let anyone else know, I wouldn't wanna lose the current way people look at me, what else ensures that nobody fucks with me?"  
"Wouldn't want the badass Percival Theobald-Godwin to look like half the human being he is, now would we?" Mallory quips, causing Percival to give her a reluctant smile.  
"I wouldn't give me that much credit, but right you are, Mallory, right you are. Hey, thank you for listening to me, it's relieving to talk about things like that, I guess, I'm just worried you don't trust me anymore. So if it means anything, anything at all, I can control my rage, channel it and use it as the greatest weapon in a long line of weapons-"  
"I still trust you, Percival, don't fret about that, okay? Who you were three years ago and who you are now are entirely separate characters, I mean that in the 'evil' sense that you've spoken much about, because you're not evil, you've done terrible things, but everyone in the world that we live in has, including myself. All of the goodness you spoke of is still bounded within you, scattered in the deepest cavern of your mind and the half of your soul that remains, trust me, we've all seen it so it's not completely inaccessible,  _we're_ all going to help you find that good again, I promise. Use your hatred and rage as a weapon in the upcoming conflict because you're the only person who can wield it, you and you alone, I imagine you've found tactics in doing so?"  
"Yes, Ma'am, dozens upon dozens."  
"That's good then."

"So," Percival begins conversing once more, shifting the subject to something easier. "John and Behold clarified the situation with the Hawthorne students, who appeared to  _want_ to be a part of the conflict by the end of the clarification, which includes my brother believe it or not. While they were doing that, Cordelia filled me in with the layout; what comes next now that Michael slipped away. I want you to know that I'll be coming with you and the group to L.A., but I need to ask, do you truly believe they're going to help us, I mean, what do they have to gain in this situation, they're dead."  
"They're more likely to help us than help him if we consider Michael's history with most of them, besides, at least  _two_ of them want to make up for their mistakes."  
"I imagine the two you mentioned are his biological parents?" Percival inquires further.  
"You would be correct, the others I'm not sure of but at the same time, we can offer them something without forcing them to shake hands with the Anti-Christ."  
"And what exactly is it  _we_ can offer them, Mals?"  
"The most valuable offering for spirits," Mallory states, smiling at Percival as he looks at her, intrigued overall. "Quite possibly another chance at life."


End file.
